


Big Chance

by koto



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Minor Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin, Nurse Minho, Strangers to Lovers, college student jisung, kind of not really, not a lot of smut I ran out of energy halfway through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 37,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26967148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koto/pseuds/koto
Summary: Jisung is busy, and he's content being busy. He doesn't have time to mess around. It's his senior year of college, he's glad to be making money where he can, producing music in his free time, and performing in the subway station near campus three times a week. But when flirty stranger drops his number in the tip jar, he can't help but be intrigued. And when what he swears to keep casual starts to feel like anything but, Jisung realizes maybe he can make time, especially for those important.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Kim Seungmin/Seo Changbin
Comments: 110
Kudos: 634
Collections: Minsung





	1. Rolling the Dice

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, hi! It's been a long time since I posted anything in general, let alone a good longform minsung. I'm going to try to get chapter 2 up within a reasonable timeframe, it's got some good progress on this, but I just didn't want to sit on this chapter anymore. It's 2 am so I don't have much to say but I hope you enjoy! I always always always love comments. 
> 
> Also, thanks to futurelikejicasso for always letting me scream about my fics to her. Go check out her excellent work as well.

Jisung doesn’t really like subways. They smell bad, they’re hot, they’re crowded; sometimes there’s even rats. The trains are loud and they come every five minutes, which means as soon as Jisung finds peace it’s disrupted once again. But of all the places he’s tried out busking, between the park, the street, the courtyard between the dorm buildings on campus, the subway is undoubtedly his star venue. It has the best acoustics, the most foot traffic, and people who are actually willing to donate to a street performer's cause. So here he stands, a guitar strapped to his chest and a microphone pressed to his mouth, performing for the world to see. His donation jar only has $7 in it so far, but he hasn’t been here all that long. The coin donations are a nice thought, they still cheer him up every time he gets them, and dollar bill donations are even better. But what he really wants, the ultimate prize, is to sell a few of his albums. It’s not like he’s asking for anything crazy, five bucks for an album burned in his university's studio decorated with cover art his roommate had made with the help of a free photo editing app. It’s a pretty good value, if he says so himself.

 _“Nobody has a way to play physical CD’s anymore. Just keep promoting online!”_ Seungmin always nags. Despite that, he prints out cover art whenever Jisung needs it anyway.

And Jisung does promote online _ _.__ He promotes online _a lot_. But he also knows that his strong suit is performing, and that’s not all that easy to show off through the internet. And so he has homemade business cards that tell people exactly where they can find him online sitting right there next to his tip jar, and he goes through them often, because people in the subway occasionally take interest! But he still holds onto the hope that someone, anyone with an extra $5 burning a hole in their pocket, will get inspired by his performances and actually buy an album. So he may not really _like_ subways, but he does find a strange sense of hope in them every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday between the hours of six and eight p.m.

Now it’s six-thirty, and Jisung switches to a new song, one of his favorites off his album. Playing covers is usually what brings in the big bucks, a little ‘Hey There Delilah’ to entertain millennial couples on their way to date night, maybe some Elvis when he sees an older crowd. But he only has two hours here, one and a half now, and his goal is to show off his own songwriting talent, not that of others. It seems to work, because he gets two more donations throughout the length of an original song.

“Thank you all so much, I appreciate it!” Jisung says, giving a cheesy smile to the three people who have stayed behind. “Thank you for watching, and thank you for those who donated. If you’re interested at all, that song can be found on my album. Only five dollars for you folks!”

Two of them smile and nod, and toss him a few coins but excuse themselves. That leaves one, a man around his age, maybe a little older based on the scrubs he adorns. A real working adult. “Can I hear another before I make a choice?” he asks.

“Absolutely!” Jisung says, putting forth his most people-pleasing grin. _He really needs a second performance? It’s $5. If you have it, you have it, and he obviously does or he wouldn’t ask._ Jisung ignores the mild annoyance and starts playing again, trying to make himself focus on the song to take his mind off it. He still spares a few glances up at the man who, if the soft smile on his face and the way he shifts his weight from foot to foot, seems to be enjoying the music. He’s actually kind of hard not to look at, with his big eyes and perfect lips and stupidly gorgeous bone structure. When Jisung finishes, he leans towards the donation bucket to drop ten dollars in, and would you look at that, his nose is perfect too.

“Oh, thank you!” Jisung says, snapping himself out of the trance he’d gotten stuck in between ending the song and admiring his listener. “So you want an album? Or two albums?”

“Two please. One for me, one for a friend.”

“Thanks man, I appreciate it. Take some business cards too if you like it, maybe you can get some people to stream if you really enjoyed it that much?” Jisung questions hopefully as he grabs two CD’s from his bag and hands them over.

“I’ll spread it around. Thanks for the show,” he says with a wink, grabbing his new goodies and walking away. Jisung stares after him for a moment, taken aback by the sudden flirtation.

But then a new group is forming, a family struggling to keep everyone in line, and when he gets a request from a little girl to play for her he can’t say no. So the handsome stranger walks away, and Jisung carries out his duties until his scheduled eight p.m. departure.

* * *

Jisung practically has to force himself to go to the station on Wednesday. He’d worked in the morning, spent his time swiping students in and out of the library for six hours before heading to his afternoon classes. It’s a dull job, but that’s kind of the point, because it’s where he accomplishes most of schoolwork so he can have time to work on music when he’s _actually_ free. His classes felt extra long today, two heavily weighted projects were announced, and he’s stressed. He wants to go to his apartment with Seungmin and whine until his roommate agrees to order pizza and help him study. But busking is his own little showcase every week, it’s his chance to play his music to the world and get his name out there, it’s what makes his extracurricular music worth creating. So he drags his guitar and mic setup from the school music room into the subway, finds his usual place, sets up his marketing, and plays.

And that helps. It relieves his stress, especially today, because he gets a decent crowd within the first ten minutes that inspires a wave of donations and the sale of an album. He loses track of time as people filter in and out of the station, smiles when people give him tips from their pockets, laughs when people dance along to what he plays. And when he sees a familiar man approach in a familiar pair of scrubs, he finishes his song and pauses his playing.

”Hey,” he says, holding up a ten dollar bill. Jisung squints at him, confused.

”Here for more? You get robbed of the first two or something?”

”Is that how you speak to your repeat customers? Should I take my business elsewhere?”

”No, please, buy my album,” Jisung says, putting his hands together and fake pleading. The man smiles and hands him the bill, which Jisung shoves in his pocket for later. “Thank you. Two again?”

”Yes please.”

”Seriously though, why are you buying so many? I mean, not that you shouldn’t. You definitely should. Just curious where my songs are going,” Jisung asks. This isn’t a normal occurrence, and he doesn’t want to push the boundary between artist and consumer, but he really is interested.

”Just to my friends. I played it for a few of them and they all liked it, so I want to get more for the other few,” he explains.

”I don’t want to ruin the secret, but since I’ve already made twenty bucks off you… you know you could just download the songs and burn your own discs for them, right?” Jisung teases.

”That wouldn’t be very fair to you, though, would it? Redistributing your stuff? Plus, they like the album art,” the man says.

”I’ll tell Seungmin.”

”Who?”

”Ah,” Jisung says, realizing his mistake. “My roommate, who also did the art. He’s a design student.”

”What’s your name?”

”Huh?”

"Your roommate’s name is Seungmin. Your artist name is J.One. But I doubt that’s what your parents call you, so what’s your actual name?” he asks.

"Jisung?”

The man laughs at his intonation, eyes scrunching up into pretty little crescents. “Is that a question?”

"No, it’s Jisung. I’m just not sure why you want to know my name,” Jisung explains.

”Because I’ve seen you around for a while now and I’ve always wondered. ‘What’s that cute guys real name?’” he ponders, placing a finger to his lips to mimic his thought process.

"Oh”

”Mine is Minho. I’m not sure if you were going to ask, but it’s Minho,” he says. _Minho_

"Well, Minho, thanks for the twenty bucks. Tell your friends to come visit me,” Jisung says, wagging his eyebrows and rubbing his fingers together to attract a little more cash flow.

"No can do, you’ll have to work with me. I’m their music dealer now,” Minho says, cackling evilly. Jisung can’t help but snicker along with him. They’re interrupted by a civilian running behind Minho to get to their train, causing him to stumble forward a step and catch himself.

"Do you have a train to catch?” Jisung asks, gazing after them.

”I guess I do. When are you here next?” Minho asks.

"Tomorrow. Monday, wednesday, thursday.”

"I’ll be back for more tomorrow,” he responds, shooting Jisung a wink. _What is it with this guy and his winks?_

"I have more albums now, though,” Jisung offers, pointing at his guitar case.

"Ah, but I’m out of cash. So I’ll see you tomorrow,” Minho says, turning on his heel and strolling towards the subway gates with a little wave. Jisung looks at his phone, surprised to see he only has an hour left. Had Minho come later than before? Or were they really talking for that long? He’s already made a good chunk of money, he could just call it quits and still try to bribe Seungmin into sharing a pizza. But somehow his mood is better now, and the fatigue seems to be gone.

When he gets back to the apartment, something must be showing, because it takes no more than two minutes for Seungmin to start teasing him.

"Why do you look like that?” his roommate asks, sitting at their kitchen island with a textbook open in front of him.

"Like what? Do you want pizza? I want to order pizza,” Jisung says, trying to deflect.

"Yeah, I’ll eat pizza. Did something good happen?” Seungmin has taken his eyes off his homework, which means he’s not stopping the line of questioning until he gets an answer he’s satisfied with.

"I’ve just sold five albums in the past three days, I’m happy, sue me,” Jisung says, putting his hands in the air as a signal of innocence.

Seungmin looks at him for a second, then turns back to his book. “Five people bought your album in three days? That’s pretty damn good considering how hard it is to come across a cd player these days,” he comments.

"Well, not exactly.

"Hmm?” Seungmin glances up again.

"One person bought four of them. Two albums yesterday, two albums Monday. His name’s Minho." Jisung isn't sure why he added that extra piece of information in, but Seungmin just rolls with it.

"Is Minho a millionaire? Is he trying to bribe you into a date? Why did he buy four albums?”

"He’s a doctor or something. Maybe a nurse. He wears scrubs,” Jisung replies. Those are decent paying careers, right? That’s all the information he really has to offer.

"Sexy.”

"He kind of is, actually. What do you want on the pizza?” Jisung asks.

"Don’t care. Are you sure this guy isn’t a nutcase?” Seungmin has returned back to his work, highlighting his book and scratching his chin.

"I can’t confirm or deny that, but we’ve only seen each other in the station, so I think it should be fine. Public areas. Plus he works in a hospital.”

"In the psych ward?”

"Oh, shut up. Or I’ll hide the pizza."

Seungmin laughs at that, putting a finger to his lips in a hushing motion. Jisung waits around for a second, expecting another sarcastic comment, but his roommate is already swept back up into his coursework so he excuses himself into his bedroom.

It’s refreshing to shed his street clothes and slip into something more comfortable, and he almost misses it when a ten dollar bill spills out from his sweatshirt pocket and onto the floor, worn and crumpled from improper storage. Jisung picks it up and looks at his backpack, where his jar of tips lays tucked away inside. Normally they all get placed into his top drawer for safekeeping until he has a large enough quantity to take them to the bank, deposit them into a savings account that he’s sworn not to touch until after school. The world is unpredictable, and while his parents have been kind enough to pay his tuition, there’s no way to know what’s to come. His brother had been cut off after graduation, there’s no reason he won’t be as well; that’s why he spends his time producing his own music, promoting it in dirty subways, trying to make a name for himself so that when he’s inevitably on his own he can land a good job, start a career, and be stable. That’s why he works so damn hard.

But for some reason, he doesn’t really want to store this ten dollar bill into his future. After all, Minho hadn’t put it into the tip jar, he’d given it to Jisung directly. Ten dollars won’t make or break him. So he makes an exception, shoves the bill into his wallet and thinks about all the delicious things he can get with it tomorrow between classes and his performance. Or maybe put it towards a new set of guitar strings, or one of those beanies he’d been eyeing for a while now but never felt quite entitled to purchase. Maybe he could even buy a cheap bottle of wine and take a night off to unwind, let his body recover from the constant _go, go, go_ his life has become.

In the end, it goes to the pizza man, who looks like he needs it more than Jisung ever could.

* * *

Unlike the previous day, Jisung is antsy to get performing on Thursday. He didn’t have work in the morning, which had led to staying up far too late while gorging on pizza and watching National Geographic once he got some studying done. He wakes up refreshed and ready to go, works diligently on his projects during lab time, chokes down dining hall food after his classes, and practically runs to the station (or as much as he can given the load of equipment he’s carrying). Not that it will matter, Minho always comes around the same time anyway.

_Wait._

Since when is he doing this for Minho?

He doesn’t even _know_ Minho, not at all, not in the slightest. He’s just a fleeting moment of happiness a few days a week, a handsome stranger who puts money in his pockets. Somehow that sounds kind of dirty, and Jisung can feel himself frown at the thought as he drags his setup into his normal spot. That really has been the extent of their relationship, but somehow it feels like just a bit more. Minho has a way of making it feel that way. So maybe today Jisung can get a little more out of him, learn something new. What does he do? Does he commute far? What’s his favorite song on the album? (So maybe the last question is particularly selfish). Today seems like a good day to find at least a little more out.

But Minho doesn’t show.

 _I’ll be back for more tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow._ Isn’t that what he had said? Jisung had spent the first chunk of his show playing happily, in higher spirits than ever before, waiting for six thirty to roll around. And then it did, and Minho wasn’t there. Which was fine, because people run late. He hadn’t specified a time, just said _See you tomorrow_. So Jisung waited, annoyed with himself for looking up so excitedly every time he saw legs donned in light blue scrubs and letting himself get crestfallen when it wasn’t him. He still played his songs, smiled graciously when people left tips, tried his best when people made requests. But now it’s eight, and Minho isn’t here. And as much as Jisung is trying to push that fact into the back of his head and make it small, because again, he barely knows the guy... it kind of hurts.

But at least it’s Thursday, because that means he gets a distraction. A distraction in the form of one of his best friends and a long standing, extraordinarily platonic dick appointment. Every Thursday night, for the past five months, he packs up his equipment, drops it off at campus, and takes the train to Changbin’s place for what they’d mutually decided one very drunken night would be a great way to relieve stress while they’re both single. And it has been! No commitment, no feelings, usually a few rounds of their favorite flavor of the month game afterward. Sometimes, for a job well done, Changbin will even share a celebratory frozen pizza and a couple cans of beer. It’s not a bad arrangement at all.

“Hello darling. I’ve come for kisses,” Jisung announces through the intercom when he arrives at Changbin’s building.

“Kiss my ass.” The buzzer sounds and Jisung pulls open the door, climbing up the familiar three flights of stairs to his friend's walk-up. When he arrives Changbin’s already got his head sticking out the door and ushers him inside. “Sup?”

“Glad it’s Thursday. May I please have a beer oh dear friend of mine?” Jisung asks, already grabbing one from the fridge. Changbin scowls but holds his hand out, requesting one of his own.

“Why? Bad day? Or did you really want to kiss my ass?”

Jisung opens his beer and takes a few sips, sighing as the cold slips down his throat and refreshes his system. “ Well I’m not going to kiss your nasty mouth.” That’s one rule they’ve always had, ever since the first time they’d tried this out. Jisung had leaned in, planted his lips on Changbin’s, and shuddered at the feeling and pulled away. He remembers Changbin looking equally skeezed out, and they’d agreed to just leave that aspect out of the arrangement. They’re friends, not lovers. And as nice as Changbins lips are, Jisung wants nothing to do with them on his own. His arms? Muscular, strong, feel great wrapped around his waist. His ass? To die for. His lips? Well, they’re nice, but he’d rather feel them on other parts of his body.

“You didn’t think my mouth was nasty last week,” Changbin laughs, smacking Jisung on the butt playfully. Jisung almost spits his drink out in shock (sometimes he swears Changbin _still_ doesn’t understand his own strength, even though he’d begun working out at least a year and a half ago) and yelps, which just makes Changbin laugh louder.

“And I still wasn’t kissing it.”

“Yeah yeah yeah. Are you good though?” he asks, genuine concern in his eyes. They’ve known each other long enough to know when something’s off, even if Jisung tries to hide it. He’s fine. He has no reason to be anything other than fine.

But even he's not sure he can find words to explain the weird feeling in his bones.

“I’m good. Promise. We doing this?” Jisung asks, placing his beer on the counter and walking up to Changbin to wrap his arms around his friend, placing an exaggerated smooch on his forehead. He shudders violently, holding Jisung back by the shoulders just enough to make a face at him before picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder. Jisung shrieks again, laughing and pounding lightly on Changbins back as he carries him to the bedroom to deposit him on the mattress.

“We’re doing this.”

* * *

“You have fun last night?”

Jisung emerges from his room the next day at an impressive two in the afternoon, taking full advantage of the fact that he’s on his day off of work and his schedule is void of any classes on Fridays. Seungmin is sitting in the kitchen again, nose buried in his laptop with the TV humming quietly in the background.

“I did, I’m sore, thanks for asking,” Jisung replies. He’d needed a bit more distraction than expected to take his mind off things last night, several rounds of distraction, and now he’s paying the price. He hears Seungmin scoff from behind his screen and stretches for good measure, smiling to himself when he catches his roommate flush a bit after spotting a big bite mark on Jisung’s side. It doesn’t actually have that sexy of a story behind it, it was more of a punishment when they sat down to play Mario Kart and Jisung wouldn’t stop kicking his feet in Changbin’s face, but Seungmin is always so put together that it’s kind of fun to see him lose his cool every once in a while.

“So how long are you two going to keep doing that, exactly?”

Jisung starts up the coffee-maker and walks to the fridge, digging around for something he won’t have to cook. He settles on a yogurt and takes it with him to the counter, leaning across from Seungmin and taking a bite before answering.

“I don’t know. It’s convenient. Maybe until graduation?”

“Grad?” Seungmin looks up, shocked. “The semester just started a month ago, you’re going to do this all school year?”

“Maybe. I mean, like I said, it’s convenient. We’re both single. I have no intention of finding a boyfriend, I’m way too busy. This is the first day I’ve had off of everything in like a month. It’s just easier,” Jisung explains. Seungmin looks decidedly unhappy with that response.

“Isn’t that unfair to him? Aren’t you leading him on?” he asks, brows furrowed.

“No? He’s not into me like that.” _What’s with the questioning?_ “We’ve been at this for a while, I swear, it’s just out of practicality.”

_Why does Seungmin suddenly care so much?_

His roommate still has a suspicious look on his face, but Jisung is saved from the awkward conversation by the coffee-maker dinging to signal its completion. “So is he on the same page?” _Or not_.

Jisung sighs, not turning to face Seungmin while he loads his coffee with sugar and creamer. “About what exactly?”

“About not wanting a boyfriend, I guess?”

Jisung takes a sip of his coffee, thinking for a moment, and turns to face his friend. “Actually, that I’m not sure about. He’s never said anything. I guess if he did he’d cut it off, right? So he must not.” Jisung takes a few big bites of his yogurt and Seungmin hums, turning back to his computer and continuing his work. “What’s with all the questions anyway?”

“No reason. So you’re off all day?” Seungmin asks, eyes still directed at his screen.

“Yeah, but I’m going into one of the studios in a bit. Need to get some project work done and I like the quiet there. Don’t worry, you’ve got the place to yourself,” Jisung says, walking around to Seungmin and peeking at his work. “Pretty.”

“Thank you,” Seungmin says, reaching up to pat Jisung on the head. “If you come back before it’s too late, I think Felix and Hyunjin and I are going to the bar. If you find it in yourself to come.”

“But dollar beer night is-”

“Wednesday, I know. But I thought since you sold all those albums maybe you wouldn’t be so cheap this week,” Seungmin explains.

Jisung considers that. He’s become somewhat of a workaholic lately, maybe a night out would be fun. “I’ll think about it. But Minho’s money is safely in savings already, I’m afraid.”

“Is he done buying your stock?” Seungmin questions.

“Not sure.”

“Didn’t see him yesterday?”

“No!” Jisung says, irritated again at the memory. “And he said he’d be there! Isn’t that annoying? He told me he was going to buy more albums, and he never showed!” His voice sounds gruff coming out, more than he’d intended, but it still kind of grinds his gears.

Seungmin looks up at him questioningly. “Woah, woah, ok. Were you relying on him to buy albums for rent or something? I didn’t mean to get you so heated.”

“But isn’t that rude?”

“Kind of, but you don’t really know the dude. He doesn’t technically owe you anything. Anything could have happened, maybe lay off the judgement?” Seungmin suggests. His eyes are sympathetic, but Seungmin is nothing if not a voice of reason. “He’s a doctor right? What if someone had an emergency? What if they were bleeding out right there on the table and Minho was there to save his life and you’re pouting about him not being there to buy an album? Hmm?” _Shit._

“You know, Seungmin, you’re not very fun to vent to,” Jisung says, flopping down on their sofa. “Now I feel like a dick.”

“Well, you said it, not me,” Seungmin says with a laugh. “Maybe he’ll be back. Don’t let it ruin your day off.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh come on, stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting, I’m reflecting on my actions,” Jisung says, staring up at the ceiling. Seungmin seems to be done with the conversation and has returned to his work, so when he’s good and ready Jisung rolls off the couch to get dressed and ready for the day. Maybe he can channel his feelings into productivity. Write an angsty song or two, or find some kind of moody instrumental. That’s the thought that pushes him to toss on his most comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized flannel, slide his laptop into his school bag, and head out the door with a brief farewell to Seungmin.

It’s getting cooler outside, and Jisung finds himself eternally grateful that he has his flannel to clutch onto as he journeys to the performing arts building. The building is nearly empty on Fridays, and he may be the only one here to study, but at least that means it’s quiet. It should be a productive day.

It only takes about twenty minutes to fall into the groove of things, and with that mindset Jisung works to create. It turns out he’s in the perfect headspace to tune out the world, numb his thoughts, and channel them into school and personal projects. It’s a good feeling, sitting down and not getting up until he’s completed what he’d set out to do. The only problem is at that point, it’s already nine in the evening, and Jisung is mentally wiped. Hopefully Seungmin doesn’t kill him, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to the bar. He has work in the morning, and is supposed to meet up with Changbin in the afternoon (for songwriting help, no funny business), and Jisung needs his sleep. It’s shaping up to be yet another weekend of all work and no play at all.

* * *

Jisung’s prediction turns out to be pretty accurate. He’d spent the weekend working, writing with Changbin, found time for a few movies with Seungmin and their friend Felix on Sunday night, and that was that. Certainly not one for the books. Jisung had all but wiped the bad taste in his mouth left by Minho’s not showing up away until now, as he assembles his gear in the subway station for his Monday set. He’s not really upset anymore, not since Seungmin whipped him into gear, but now he can’t help but wonder what happened. And hope he gets to find out tonight.

Luck is on his side, because like clockwork at six thirty in the evening a gorgeous man in a blue pair of scrubs starts applauding his song and requesting a set of albums.

“You’re a couple days late,” Jisung says, smirking when a regretful look comes across Minho’s face.

“Ah, so you did notice. Sorry about that,” Minho responds.

“Of course I noticed, you were shaping up to be my most loyal customer.”

“I got asked to work late last minute, but I’m here now. My coworker's kid got sick and I offered to cover.”

 _There it is. The perfectly good reason Seungmin promised would be there._ Jisung swallows down the guilt he feels for letting himself be annoyed. “So you worked for like...?”

“Sixteen hours. It happens. Will you still accept me as your loyal customer even if I flaked out?” Minho asks, pulling ten bucks out of his pocket and trying to hand it to Jisung.

“Keep your money,” Jisung says, waving it away. Minho’s face falls a bit, but Jisung quickly picks up two albums and holds them Minho’s way. “On the house. For your hard work. Keep your money, take the albums, give them to your friends or whatever.”

“But I have to pay you, it’s your business,” Minho protests.

Jisung grabs a few business cards and stacks them on top of the albums, giving Minho his biggest business smile. “Just spread the words about my excellent work and take the albums, Minho.”

Minho grabs them, pulling his backpack around the front and placing the albums inside before digging around for something. He pulls out a pen and writes something on one of Jisung’s business cards, then slips it into the tip jar.

“What was that?”

“A tip,” Minho says with a wink. “But I will spread the word. And thank you for the albums, they’ll be used well.”

“Thank you for your service to sick people. Hey, I keep meaning to ask, what kind of doctor are you?” Jisung asks. He’s finally got Minho here, why not ask?

“I’m a nurse, actually.”

“Hello, nurse,” Jisung says without thinking. _That was dumb. Why do pretty boys make him dumb?_ And yet Minho chuckles.

“Surprisingly you’re the first one to give me that. Today, at least. Though I expected a bit better from such a talented lyricist than a Loony Toons reference,” he says with a laugh.

“I’ll need more time to come up with clever nurse lines, sorry.”

Minho zips his bag and pulls it back into proper position. “I look forward to it. I have to go, but text me when you figure some out, ok?”

“Huh?”

“See you Wednesday!” Minho says with a wave. And just like that, he’s gone.

It isn’t until later that night, when Jisung is organizing his tips, that he finally understands. Jisung smiles and pulls out his phone, giggling like a schoolgirl being courted as he enters the info. Because right there, scrawled across his business card, is what he can only assume to be the phone number of one nurse Minho.

* * *

**Jisung:** _Excuse me, nurse, can you prescribe me an inhaler? Because you took my breath away._

 **Minho:** _Nurses can’t write prescriptions._

 **Jisung:** _Was it at least a little better?_

 **Minho:** _It was a little better._

Jisung snickers to himself, not even bothering to keep his phone hidden from library patrons. It’s the next day and halfway through his shift he’s decided it’s late enough in the day and he’s just the right level of bored to try messaging Minho, not expecting such a quick response.

 **Jisung:** _I’m no organ donor, but I’d be happy to give you my heart._

 **Minho:** _Wait, what?_

 **Jisung:** _Bad? Blame google not me._

 **Minho:** _Are you really not an organ donor??_

 **Jisung:** _?????_

 **Minho:** _You’re a healthy young man you should really register. It could save a lot of lives._

 **Jisung:** _I am one_

 **Minho:** _good_

 **Jisung:** _How was the pickup line?_

 **Minho:** _I wasn’t a fan_

 **Jisung:** _What does this one mean?_

 **Jisung:** _“You get my heart racing like an epinephrine drip”_

 **Minho:** _god these really are corny_

 **Minho:** _It relaxes your airways and increases heart rate. It’s the same thing as adrenaline._

 **Jisung:** _Wait then that’s a pretty good pickup line right?_

 **Minho:** _Definitely the best so far. I think for the sake of safety I should make sure this is Jisung?_

 **Jisung:** _This is Jisung._

 **Minho:** _Good. If I had your number before I could have told you I wasn’t coming to the station._

 **Jisung:** _Well you got it._

Jisung is startled by the sound of someone clearing their throat, shoving his phone under the desk (not that he’s fooling anyone) and returning to the task at hand. A girl around his age is standing in front of him with a large stack of books sat on the counter, arms crossed and expression annoyed. _Whatever happened to “excuse me”?_

Jisung helps her check out, doing his best not to let her attitude affect him and get him down.

Spending the rest of shift texting Minho corny lines helps a little bit too.

* * *

“Hey.”

Jisung looks away from his guitar, startled. The first thing he sees is a pair of black chelsea boots, the tops covered by tight ripped black jeans. Man, Jisung really hopes ripped jeans never go out of style. Or at least not for this person, because those are some beautiful thighs, and if anything he wishes he could see more. And tucked into those jeans, as Jisung scans his eyes up, is a simple black button up that hugs this man’s body perfectly. And that man is… “Minho?”

“Yes, hey. Minho here,” the man responds, and Jisung has to blink a few times to make sure he’s not imagining things. No, it’s definitely Minho, no mistaking that face.

“Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. Here for more albums?” Jisung asks, gesturing to his guitar case. He’d finally gotten his new shipment of CD’s and cases after Minho bought him out last week.

”Not tonight. Actually, I have a request,” Minho says. His voice is a mix between cautious and confident, and Jisung is a little confused.

“Oh?”

“Come out with me.”

“Huh? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. Come on, I’m all dolled up, come out with me,” Minho whines, stepping a little closer to Jisung. He clutches his mic stand like a shield to keep him safe as Minho closes in. It’s not that Minho seems dangerous, he just looks _really good_. Intimidatingly good.

“Wouldn’t you normally wait until you have a yes before committing to a date or something? Was it all the pickup lines? I was joking, you know.”

Minho laughs at that, then scratches his head a little nervously. “Actually, I have to admit this is a little spontaneous. I was supposed to go out with coworkers anyway, but they bailed. And I still wanted to go out. So I thought of you.”

“Oh,” Jisung says. He’s not sure why, but that kind of stings. “So you didn’t bring a change of clothes to work just to sweep me off my feet?”

“Unfortunately not. But I’d still like to, if you’re up for it. Drinks on me. If you have other plans, I understand.” Minho looks a little guilty now, but Jisung can’t help but tease a little.

“I _suppose_ I could do that. If it’s for the drinks. I need to drop my stuff off first though,” Jisung sighs, trying to make it as exaggerated as possible. Minho perks up at that, a small smile coming across his face.

”Great. I’ll help. Where?” he asks. Jisung starts compacting his equipment and putting things into cases, putting his speakers in the bucket he sometimes uses as a seat and piling the collapsed mic stand on top before he moves on to his guitar.

“Just a block away. I rent stuff from the music room on campus and we’re close,” Jisung says. Once his guitar is strapped to his back he reaches for the bucket, surprised when Minho pulls it away first. “You don’t have to do that.”

”Why should you carry it alone when we’re both walking the same way?” Minho asks, starting to walk ahead of Jisung. He scrambles to catch up, getting on the escalator a few steps down from Minho and stepping to his side when they get off. “So which way are we walking?”

”That way.” Jisung points to his right and Minho follows, shifting the bucket to his other hand so it doesn’t knock against Jisung as they walk.

”It’s probably nice having campus in the middle of the city, huh?” Minho asks.

”It is sometimes. Like now. But sometimes it’d be nice to have a place that’s only students. Safer, you know. Sometimes weirdos hang out here.”

”I know what you mean. The area around the hospital gets like that too,” Minho agrees. Jisung keys them into the building and leads Minho down the hall, walking a little slower than usual to make sure he can keep up with his hands full. They fall into a silence, only the sounds of footsteps echoing through empty halls disrupting the peace.

Jisung isn’t really sure what to say in this situation. They barely know each other, and Minho has made a point to talk to him recently, and their texting had been fun, but he’s still not quite sure _why_ he seems so interested. So he tries not to let the quiet bother him, chooses to just instruct Minho where to put things instead of starting some awkward form of conversation. He wishes he knew something to say, but he doesn’t. When they leave the school hall, Jisung follows as Minho starts heading to the left.

”How far are we walking?” Jisung asks, finally finding words.

”Not far,” Minho says. “Just a bar a few blocks away. Five minutes tops,” he says. Jisung nods, then realizes Minho can’t see him when he’s two steps behind.

”Ok,” he responds. He cringes at the way his voice sounds, awkward and quiet and uncomfortable.

”Are you ok? Cold?”

”No, not cold. It’s still nice out, I’m excited for hoodie weather,” Jisung says. _Talking about the weather? Brilliant solution._

”Oh yeah? You seem like a hoodie person, now that you mention it,” Minho chuckles.

”Isnt everyone a hoodie person?”

”Yeah, but you seem like you’d be especially cute in a hoodie. Something a little oversized? I can picture it already.” Jisung can see the way Minho’s lips curl up into a smirk, either very pleased by the picture in his head or very proud of his flirting tactics.

”I do look very cute in a hoodie, actually. Thank you for noticing.”

”My pleasure.” Minho messes with his shirt cuffs a little, rolling them halfway up and letting his forearms show.

”Weird,” Jisung says, half to himself and half to the space surrounding him, but not necessarily to Minho.

”What is?” Minho stops to let him catch up so they can finally walk side by side.

Jisung looks at him again, at his side profile (and what a glorious one it is), and his outfit, and the way he carries himself when they’re outside the confines of the station. “You, I guess. Or your outfit. It’s just weird seeing you out of scrubs.”

Minho doesn’t say anything, just points at the bar they’re heading to and pulls his wallet from his pocket for the ID check. Jisung follows suit, though he has to dig through his bag for a few seconds before finding any luck. Minho waits silently, which makes Jisung extremely conscious of how much he’s stumbling even though he hasn’t said a thing. When he finally gets his ID checked, the bouncer waves him through, and Minho guides him inside.

”Do you want to sit at the bar? Or a hightop?” he asks. Jisung looks around at the bar, a dingy looking irish pub covered in neon advertisements and sports logos. It’s not what he expected, especially not based on Minho’s outfit.

”You choose, I have no preference,” Jisung says, still looking around. There aren’t a ton of people here, just a small group of people (students?) around his age and a couple older men seated around the bar staring at the screen. There’s a big sign that shows their hours (OPEN TIL 2 AM), which reminds him he has to work in the morning. “Interesting place. Seems like it has history,” he says, climbing into a high chair when Minho chooses a table for them. “I have to be out of here by eleven, by the way.”

“I see,” Minho says, flipping through the beer menu. He looks a little… sour? Jisung doesn’t get anything else out of him, so he just watches in silence for a few minutes and twiddles his thumbs. What did he do?

”So, you friends with any of the regulars over there?” Jisung asks, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. It doesn’t seem to work, because Minho looks up with an even worse look on his face than before.

”Hey, do you not want to be here? I know I dragged you out, but you could have said no.”

”What?” Jisung feels his heart sink. Oh god, he really fucked up. _Shit_. “No, of course I do. Why would you ask that?”

“Well you don’t like the bar, and you called my outfit weird. And you’ve already given us a time limit. So I just thought I’d make sure.”

“Your outfit isn’t weird, that’s not what I meant at all,” Jisung says. Where is their server? He needs a fucking drink. “You look hot. Even in the scrubs you look hot. And the bar seems comfortable,” Jisung says, letting his words run wild. _Well, it’s not a lie._ “Do you come here a lot?”

Minho looks pleased at that, though he seems like he’s trying not to show it. Their server finally seems to have noticed Jisung’s arrival and comes to the table, and he orders the only thing he can think of; whiskey and coke. A double, to quell the nerves. Minho orders a beer, something that sounds fancy and like it probably comes from a craft brewery. The server smiles and leaves, addressing Minho by name, which somewhat answers Jisung’s question.

“Yes, I come here a lot. A lot of the hospital staff does when we aren’t trapped inside the building,” he says.

“Huh. I never really thought about that. Doctors drinking. It’s kind of frightening,” Jisung admits. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that! I’m not trying to complain!” he clarifies, now paranoid of the chip on his shoulder showing off a little too much.

“Most of them will deny it. Us nurses, though, we need it. There’s a little too much bullshit in the day-to-day to function without some kind of distraction,” Minho says secretively. The server comes by just then, perfect timing, and drops their drinks off. Minho grabs his own, holding up his glass in a show of proof. “A toast,” Minho says, waiting for Jisung to raise his own drink and clinking them together before they both take swigs.

“College students drink a lot,” Jisung says as he puts his drink down, spinning it around with the little cocktail straw and watching the bubbles pop and fizz. “Especially seniors.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Minho laughs. He has a nice laugh, and an even nicer smile. Jisung still isn’t fully sure why he’d been so insistent on taking out some senior in college he found busking in the subway station. “I wasn’t a senior _that_ long ago. Only two years. How old do you think I am? I’m not ancient.”

“I don’t know, I’ll trust your word for now. But I’m cautious, since you seem to have a lot of disposable income for someone two years older than me. Buying all those albums and all.”

Minho laughs again at that. Oh man, Jisung _really_ doesn’t want to get used to that laugh. That is so not part of the plan for the next year. “It was twenty dollars. Over several days. I’m not a millionaire, but I can afford to spend twenty bucks for some albums if they’re going to make my kids happy,” he says. Jisung nearly spits his drink out.

“ _Kids?_ ” Jisung asks once he finally gulps his sip down. “You have kids? And you’re playing them my music? Who’s watching them now? Oh my god, should you be here?” _Oh my god, he really knows nothing about this guy._

”Are you done asking questions?”

Jisung nods, sipping his drink through his tiny cocktail straw to pace himself.

”I don’t have kids, I’m a pediatric nurse. They’re my _patients_. And I only gave your albums to the older ones,” Minho explains. A light goes off in Jisung’s head.

”Oh my god, _that’s_ why you bought so many? Wait, are they ok? And why are you the one buying them things? Isn’t it weird for you to have to spend money on work?,” Jisung asks, unable to stop himself. Somehow, ever since he was accused of being cold, his brain seems to be trying to overcompensate. His verbal filter is failing.

”They’re mostly in recovery right now, so don’t worry. And I told you I was buying them for friends! That’s what they are. I wouldn’t hesitate to buy a friend a five dollar coffee, why would this be different? They’re just so bored sitting there, your album caught everyone’s attention,” Minho explains. “Did that hit all your questions?”

“Yeah,” Jisung says, casting his eyes downward towards the weathered table they’re sat at. There’s a carving that someone seems to have tried to cover up, a heart with two sets of initials in the middle. It’s a little cliche, but sweet. It’s comforting to focus on that instead of looking into Minho’s eyes. “I think I misjudged you.”

“Oh?”

“That’s just really nice. Like, I knew you were a nurse, so you obviously care about people. But that’s _really_ nice. I kind of thought you were a weirdo hoarding all those albums at first.” Jisung doesn’t look up, continuing to stare at the table. There’s more carvings than he’d originally thought when he looks closer, though the bar staff had clearly tried to fill them in with wood pens. “And asking out someone you knew nothing about. But that part I still don’t really get.”

“Do I need some kind of crazy reason to ask you out? What if I just thought you were cute?” Minho asks. Jisung looks up at that, though he nearly regrets it when he does. Minho’s eyes, big and catlike and sparkling with intrigue, are searching into him with far more intensity than he’s prepared to handle.

“You’d just throw away three hours like that? What if I’m a terrible person? What if I wasn’t even interested in you?” Jisung asks.

“It’s just a couple hours, no skin off my back. Are you a terrible person who’s not interested in me?” Minho questions, still gazing at Jisung like he’s trying to bare his soul to the world. Jisung looks back at him, thinks about their interactions in the subway and the conversations they’ve exchanged.

“I just don’t get you,” Jisung says, dropping his head into his hands and sighing. “So yes, I’m interested, but I also just… don’t really know what you want from me. As for the terrible person thing, I really hope not.”

“I just wanted to get to know the cute musician from the train station.”

Jisung looks up at that, taken aback by how forward Minho can be. _How can people act like this?_ He might as well stop overthinking and go with it. “Well then fine, I’ll try to get to know the hot doctor from the train station.”

“Nurse.”

“The hot nurse. Tell me, hot nurse, you really have no expectations from me?” Jisung asks, finally giving into his curiosity. He feels himself getting braver and braver as the whiskey starts to seep into his bloodstream. “I really don’t mean to sound like a jerk or like I don’t want to be here, I just usually run on a really tight schedule. So I don’t want to like… disappoint you, I guess.”

“I don’t really. But why don’t we stop talking about _why_ we’re here and just be here. Have a normal conversation?” Minho suggests.

“I’m not good at this kind of talk,” Jisung admits. What kind of talk is this, even? First date talk? Is this even a date when he’d been a backup plan? If so, it’s true, he hasn’t been on a date in… how long? Since college started, at least. _Has it really been almost four years?_

“Just stop worrying, oh my god. You seemed fine over text, so why are you so frantic? Just tell me something. Tell me about… your apartment.” Minho looks like he’s trying to keep his cool, and Jisung feels like he’s utterly blowing it.

“You want me to be honest?”

“I’d rather not start out on a lie.”

“Well, then I apologize for how negative this is about to sound, truly, but it’s a piece of crap. My roommate keeps it clean, and I mess it up, and the cycle continues. It’s old,” Jisung says. Minho had asked for the truth, that’s the truth. Not very glamorous.

“You can swing that to sound better. Say it’s historic. Maybe someone great lived there once,” Minho suggests.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they’re still haunting it. Sometimes my closet door will be totally still and then… BAM! It flies open!” Jisung says, smacking his hands down onto the table for emphasis. It works, and he laughs when Minho jumps a little bit.

“Holy shit,” Minho says, leaning in with interest. “Wait, do you really think it is? Does the ghost ever mess with you?” Jisung blinks in surprise. He’d not really expected Minho to humor his ghost talk, most people never did, it was really just a quick anecdote. But it wasn’t fake. _Just go with it._

“Um, yeah. The closet thing, and sometimes my stuff moves. Seungmin says it’s just because I’m messy, but I _know_ where I put things, and that shit moves. Oh, Seungmin is my roommate. But it’s not common stuff like my keys or anything. Weird stuff, like this ceramic bowl I made in Sophomore year art. I never touch it, but sometimes it will just end up on a new shelf or whatever,” Jisung explains. Minho looks fascinated, nodding his head whenever Jisung provides a new detail. “You believe in ghosts? Really?”

“Of course. Listen to what you’re going through. My house growing up was haunted, I know it was. The lights in the kitchen always flickered, and windows would slam shut in the middle of summer for no reason. There’s no way that shit isn’t real,” Minho responds. Wow. Jisung hadn’t expected to find a commonality in ghosts and the paranormal of all things when Minho asked him out. But here they are, and hell if he’s not going to take advantage. This ghost stuff isn’t _that_ serious to him, but he never gets to talk about it. Seungmin dismisses it, Changbin had tried to yell profanities at it until Jisung shoved a literal pair of socks in his mouth, and Hyunjin was way too scared. So while it’s not a huge part of his life, maybe for tonight, while he’s got someone to share with, it can be.

“Did you ever try to cleanse it? Like with smoke or sage?”

“No, not with sage, you’re not supposed to do that. It’s destructive to native culture. Now, rosemary. That’s something worth trying. Smells good too,” Minho explains, looking extremely focused. Jisung nods, sipping his drink absentmindedly as he lets Minho go on. It turns out he knows a lot about this stuff, and somehow they move from ghosts to aliens to outer space, and before Jisung knows it his drink is gone and he’s ordering another. Minho does the same, and Jisung admires the way his face gets more and more flush as he sips on his beer.

“...so even though there might not be life like _us_ out there, there’s no way we’re the smartest life in the universe. I don’t even think I really want to meet whatever else is out there, I’m sure it’s totally gnarly looking, but it’s definitely out there,” Jisung says, finishing a speech on extraterrestrial life. He’d closed his eyes in concentration, and when he opens them Minho is looking at him fondly. He feels heat rise up into his face and hopes he can pass it off as the flush of booze taking over, but Minho just smiles even wider when Jisung holds the back of his hand to his cheek to transfer some of the coolness over. _Now who does he think he is, looking at him like that?_ ”What?”

”Nothing, you’re just cute,” Minho chuckles.

”Do you _really_ not have any expectations of me?”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t say expectations. I have dreams and aspirations. Short term goals, maybe.”

Jisung _still_ doesn’t understand Minho. “What does that mean? What are they?” Jisung asks cautiously. He doesn’t want to get Minho’s hopes up, he’s actually a really good guy, as Jisung has discovered. Someone who deserves love and attention. And time. Which is not something Jisung is in the situation to give.

“Well, my short term goal for tonight? I’m thinking I want a kiss before we part ways. You look like you’d be fun to kiss. Dreams and aspirations I won’t get into,” Minho says contemplatively. Jisung looks around, trying to find something to distract himself from that extremely honest answer, but his eyes end up trained on Minho’s lips somehow.

A kiss doesn’t sound half bad.

“You’re very ambitious,” Jisung says, admiring the way Minho’s lips curl up in response. Why is he letting himself get wrapped up in this? Who knows, but hadn’t he decided to _go with it?_

“Shoot for the moon, you land in the stars right?” Minho responds. Jisung downs the remaining couple sips of his drink, and Minho does the same. He climbs off his stool, walking around the table and hooking his hand around Minho’s elbow. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t like PDA,” Jisung says, pulling Minho towards the lavatory sign when he finally stands. It’s a small bar, one that just has two unisex bathrooms, which works out perfectly for this particular situation. “You first,” he encourages, holding the door open for Minho and stepping in behind him, locking the door once they’re both fully inside.

“You need help powdering your nose or something?” Minho asks, a sly smirk on his face. He knows _exactly_ what Jisung is after, no doubt about that. But he’s really going to make him say it?

“No, I don’t. But I’m trying to not be a terrible person, so I thought I’d help you accomplish your goal.”

Minho puts on his most scandalized look, all while creeping up to Jisung and backing him into the bathroom door. It’s a stark contrast, the goofy look on his face and his body language, the way one arm rests just next to Jisung’s head when he finally lands against the antiqued wood with a soft thud. “You want me to kiss you in this shitty bar’s bathroom?”

“I thought it was a sin or something to call this bar shitty,” Jisung retaliates. He’s not even sure why he’s fighting, the answer is clearly a resounding _yes_.

“Yeah, but I’m a regular. Though I’ve never done this,” Minho says, leaning in a little closer.

“You’re not currently doing anything. Come on, hot nurse, I’m on a time limit,” Jisung jokes. He’s not really certain how the night has taken this turn, but Minho is nice, and he’s hot, and he says he has no expectations. He kind of makes Jisung’s heart race. Plus, he’d let Jisung go on and on about ghosts, and gone on and on himself. Jisung really is on a time limit, he’s not sure when it had gotten so late, too caught up in the conversation. So is it really such a bad thing, to let himself get pressed into a bathroom door and kiss the hot guy who’d bought all his albums at the train station? It feels like a pretty good idea right now.

Minho leans in closer still, and Jisung loses patience, wrapping one arm behind Minho’s head and threading his fingers through silky brown hair, pulling him closer and initiating a kiss.

_Oh, this is such a good idea._

Minho’s lips are perfect, literally sculpted by the gods, but unlike marble pieces of art you’d find in a museum they’re soft and warm, and _man_ does Jisung like kissing them. They don’t waste time, and Jisung wouldn’t have it any other way, letting out a little sigh when Minho deepens things and moving to meet his rhythm. He lets his fingers curl into Minho’s hair even more, lets his other arm wrap around his waist, lets one of his legs shift a little to the side so Minho can slot a knee between his thighs. The kiss is getting a little messy, especially as Minho works his tongue into Jisung’s mouth, but Jisung isn’t here to fight him. _He’s going with the flow_. So what Minho does, he mimics, and when Minho groans into his mouth, he returns it two-fold. Everywhere Minho touches burns, especially when his hand smooths its way down Jisung’s spine and dips lower, cupping around his ass and prompting Jisung to tug on his hair in reaction. It serves to pull them apart for a moment, and Jisung takes the chance to admire Minho, eyes half lidded and lips red and spit-slick. When they’d first met in the subway, when Minho had pushed him to play another song before buying an album off him, dressed in scrubs and looking entirely normal, Jisung hadn’t expected to see him again. So why he’s in this situation, he’s not entirely sure, but while he’s not certain what’s in store after this, he’s got a little more time to enjoy it.

So he pulls the other man back in, presses their lips back together, licks into his mouth once more and gets lost in the feeling. He has no idea how long they spend in there, not too long because his alarm is set for eleven and it still hasn’t gone off, but long enough that when they pull away, shocked by a loud rapping at the door that makes Jisung jump, Minho’s lips are red and swollen. They’ve gotten progressively more and more tangled, and Jisung has to twist a bit to pull one arm from around Minho’s neck and the other from his waist as Minho releases him and starts to straighten out his shirt.

Jisung looks up at him again, laughing when he sees what’s become of Minho’s hair and reaching to fix it.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

“Your hair,” Jisung giggles, holding Minho’s head in place when he tries to look in the mirror. “Stay still, I’m fixing it.”

“Yes sir,” Minho says, bending a little at the knee for easier access. Jisung rotates to the back of his head, making sure everything is patted down.

“Thank you. You’re good,” Jisung says after giving his final touch on Minho’s hair and fixing his collar.

“I should really be thanking you,” Minho says. He turns to face Jisung again, puts a hand under his chin to tilt it upwards, leans in closer for more… only to be cut off by even louder knocking. Jisung thinks he hears a faint curse under his breath as his date (date?) opens the door, smiling softly behind his back. He ignores the angry look of the man outside the door, ignores the sound of wolf whistling behind them by patrons near the door, just lets himself focus on Minho’s shoulders as he trails behind instead. It feels like he’s gliding through the bar as they go back to their table, and Jisung has to stop himself from running to catch up, from lacing his fingers into Minho’s own and pulling him back for more. He’s _never_ had a kiss that good, and god does he want more.

“What do you want to do?” Minho asks, looking between their table and the bar. That’s a good question. Does he stay for another drink? After that? Or does he do something bold and invite Minho over? What does Jisung want to do?

His phone decides for him, alarm vibrating in his pocket signaling it’s time for the night to be over. “Um, I’m out of time, actually,” Jisung says guiltily, holding his phone up to show it off. As if to say _it’s not an excuse, I really do need to go._

“Seriously? You don’t want to stay for another drink?” Minho asks. He doesn’t sound mad, just a little whiny. Disappointed, maybe. Jisung would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the same way, but work will come sooner than he wants it to and that’s out of his control.

”I really can’t, I have work at eight,” Jisung says, avoiding eye contact once again. Their server comes by shortly and Minho requests the check.

“Well, shit. It wasn’t a bad night for something so spontaneous.”

“Oh yeah? Your goals were met? Dreams and aspirations fulfilled?” Jisung asks playfully.

“No, I’m dreaming bigger. But the short term goal was fun. Would love to do it again,” Minho responds. The feeling is mutual.

”I think we can make that happen at some point.” Jisung says. Minho covers the drinks as promised, and Jisung thanks him quietly.

”How are you getting home? I’m a little worried, you’ve had a few,” Minho says, getting up from the table and holding his arms up for Jisung to use if needed. Jisung isn’t drunk, maybe just a little buzzed, but he holds on regardless. Who is he to pass up being allowed to cling to a gorgeous man?

”I’m fine, but I’m going to take a rideshare home. For the sake of time,” Jisung says, pulling out his phone and requesting a ride. He holds his phone up to Minho proudly when the car is confirmed. “Seven minutes away.”

”Very good.” Minho smiles at him, that gorgeous, charming smile, and Jisung wishes it was a little longer. “I’ll wait with you at the curb.”

”You’ve had a few too, how are you getting home?” Jisung asks, one arm still wrapped around Minho’s as they make their trek outside.

”I’m calling one now,” he says, holding up his own phone. Jisung hadn’t even seen him pull it out. He looks down at the phone in his hand. _Five minutes now._

”Thanks for the drinks.”

”Thanks for the company. And the bathroom.” Minho leans against the wall of the bar, pulling Jisung into him gently. They’re the only two in sight, so Jisung follows, shifting all his weight into Minho and tilting his head up.

”Oh, any time,” he says, reaching an arm around Minho’s neck. Five minutes is enough time for a little more fun. He pulls Minho down, and positions himself up, and slips into another kiss. He really could do this forever. It’s not as heated as before, they know that time is ticking away, but Minho doesn’t disappoint. Until he pulls away, leaving Jisung whining for more, then sighing as kisses are peppered down his jaw.

”We should really do this again,” Minho says between kisses, moving to the space where Jisung’s jaw meets his neck. “When you have more time,” he whispers. Jisung nods slightly, unable to trust his voice when Minho is doing _that_ to his neck.

They’re running out of time, he can tell. He sees headlights turn down the street and sighs again, this time out of disappointment more than pleasure. Jisung laces his fingers into Minho’s hair again, a feeling he’s really growing to like, and pulls Minho’s lips back to his for the last couple seconds they have together. “Yeah,” he says when they pull apart, “we’ll definitely do this again.” He turns in Minho’s arms, looking towards the car to match it’s identity with the one on his phone. “This is me.”

”You’ll be back on Monday?” Minho asks, following Jisung to the car and opening his door.

”I’ll be there,” Jisung confirms. He starts climbing into the car, but Minho stops him halfway, pressing one more kiss to his lips before he sends Jisung on his way.

* * *

Jisung avoids Seungmin like the plague before work. He knows he’s going to spill the beans to someone about Minho, he’s way too excited and confused not to, but he’d rather it not be the one person who’s already skeptical of his sex life. So he sneaks around the apartment as quietly as possible, grabs a few breakfast bars for his meal instead of the eggs he usually makes, and does everything in his power not to wake his roommate up.

When he gets to work, Jisung opens his phone to respond to a message he hadn’t seen the night before.

 **Minho:** _Did you make it home ok?_

It had come late, and Jisung was already bundled up in bed fast asleep by the time Minho sent it, so he must live a good bit farther away from the bar than Jisung himself. It’s a nice gesture, a _really_ nice gesture, and that in and of itself kind of throws Jisung off. This man is, without a single doubt in his mind, boyfriend material. It seems like dangerous territory when Jisung has his life so filled up that he can barely pause to breathe, but Minho had assured him he didn’t mind. And all they did was make out, that doesn’t set anything in stone. Right?

 **Jisung:** _I got home fine, I just fell asleep right away! Sorry for not answering._

 **Minho:** _I hoped that was the case, I’m glad._

 **Jisung:** _You?_

 **Minho:** _I got home fine. Actually still in bed lol, I don’t work today._

 **Jisung:** _Ah, so no station today?_

 **Minho:** _Not today sorry. I guess it’ll be until Monday?_

Ah, right. It’s Thursday, so they’ll go the whole weekend and then some before seeing each other again. Also, _it’s Thursday_. AKA Changbin day. Which feels like a weird thing to carry on with if he and Minho aren’t on the same page, because Jisung refuses to be that dick who’s hooking up with two people without either of them knowing. So he kind of has to pull the trigger and ask a very uncomfortable question now, doesn’t he?

 **Jisung:** _Hey so. This is going to sound weird given everything I’ve said, but where is this going?_

 **Minho:** _This meaning…?_

 **Jisung:** _Me and you._

 **Minho:** _I thought you said you didn’t have time for it to go anywhere?_

 **Jisung:** _Right, but I definitely want to see you again. And continue what we started._

 **Minho:** _Dirty talk at 7:08 in the morning, nice._

 **Minho:** _But I agree, we should continue._

 **Jisung:** _Right, but say I already had this kind of_

 **Jisung:** _Friends with benefits thing? With someone else?_

 **Minho:** _I’d say he’s a lucky man._

 **Jisung:** _That’s ok with you?_

 **Minho:** _We’ve only been talking for about two weeks, I’m not dumb enough to think one kiss makes us exclusive._

 **Jisung:** _ok cool_

 **Jisung:** _Do you have my other lung? Because I’ve been lung-ing for you._

 **Minho:** _Oh my god_

 **Jisung:** _It’s bad right?_

 **Minho:** _Jisung it’s really bad._

That wasn’t that bad. Minho didn’t seem particularly thrilled or particularly perturbed by the situation, and that makes Jisung feel… conflicted? Like he still doesn’t have a read on things. But he has to trust Minho’s word, so his standing plans seem like they’ll still be taking place tonight, so long as Changbin is also fine with things as they are.

But maybe Jisung isn’t. Because when he steps into Changbins apartment, the first thing that happens is Changbin sweeping him off his feet, making Jisung shriek and wrap his legs around his friend’s waist so as not to fall. And where he’d normally be laughing and maybe trying to mess with him, Jisung just feels kind of weird, especially when he feels a little bite against his collarbone. When Changbin lays him down and starts peeling his shirt off, Jisung can’t hold back anymore.

“Wait. I kissed someone. Last night, I kissed someone.”

Changbin pauses, taking his hands off Jisung’s shirt and sitting back on his knees between Jisung’s legs.

“Oh. Was it good?”

“Is that ok? Are you mad? Are we allowed to do that?” Jisung asks, mouth running a mile a minute as it tends to do whenever he panics.

“I mean, it’s not like you’re cheating on me. I guess it’s fine,” Changbin says a little questioningly.

“Good, I’m glad you’re not mad. That you’re ok with it,” Jisung sighs, relieved. Changbin stays in his place, inspecting him from above.

“Are you ok with it?”

“With kissing someone?” Jisung questions.

Changbin adjusts his shirt back down and grabs Jisung by the elbows, pulling him up so they’re not in such a compromising position anymore. “With kissing someone and continuing this. Maybe you’d rather pursue whoever it was?”

“Well that doesn’t seem very fair to you, now does it?” Jisung asks weakly. “He said he was fine with it, so it should be fine.”

“Who did you kiss anyway? Seungmin?” Changbin looks curious, more than he usually likes to show, and his eyes have a little bit of skepticism in them.

“Seungmin? Who the hell said anything about Seungmin? I’m not kissing Seungmin, he’s my roommate,” Jisung answers, sticking his tongue out in distaste. “I mean, I love Seungmin, but talk about incompatible.”

“I don’t know what goes on behind closed doors, man. What’s wrong with Seungmin?” Changbin asks defensively.

“Nothing, I just don’t want to kiss him. You don’t know the guy, his name’s Minho. We met when I was busking a couple weeks ago,” Jisung explains. “He’s a nurse. A really hot nurse.”

“Well don’t let my horniness get in the way of you tying down a hot nurse,” Changbin says with an amused tone.

“I’m not tying him down. And you're not the only horny one,” Jisung says, leaning forward and grabbing for the hem of Changbin’s shirt. He tries to peel it up but his hands won’t follow direction. He still feels… weird. “Usually.”

“But tonight?”

“Tonight I think I might still have my focus on the hot nurse,” Jisung admits. “Sorry.”

Changbin puts his hands around Jisung’s and pulls them off his shirt, adjusting to lay down and motioning for Jisung to join him. It puts them upside down on the bed, feet on Changbin’s pillows and eyes on the ceiling. “Don’t be sorry. This wasn’t meant to be permanent, Ji. It was fun while it lasted,” Changbin says. “Though I’ll miss it.”

“Me too. What’ll you miss most?” Jisung asks, letting a cocky smile come across his face. God, Changbin really is the best. He really couldn’t have done this with anyone else.

“Nothing,” Changbin sighs. Jisung smacks him in the arm, making him laugh. “Ok, fine, jesus. You’re good with your mouth, is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes.” Jisung looks at his friend and giggles. “And you have a very nice ass. It was a pleasure to look at for five months.”

“I have nice arms too.”

“Yes you do. Hey,” Jisung says, pulling Changbin’s chin to put them face to face. He leans in and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his friends lips, for the first time since the night all this started. It’s warm, but definitely wrong. It lacks everything he’d felt with Minho the night before. “Thanks for the sex, bro.”

“Disgusting. We have rules against that, bro,” Changbin says, pushing Jisung away and laughing. “So are you gonna date him?”

“When the hell would I have time to date? I need to make money. I need to save. I need to make a name for myself before I can date,” Jisung sighs. _It would be kind of nice, though._ But even that thought is getting ahead of himself, he and Minho had never really discussed that kind of thing.

“I don’t know, maybe Thursday nights? Seems like you’ll be having them free.”

“What, you don’t want to hang out with me if we’re not banging it out?” Jisung tries to put his most hurt face on.

“Well, maybe I should find someone to date for myself. Now that I’ve gotten this little push,” Changbin says.

Changbin dating? He hasn’t entertained that thought since he suffered a gnarly breakup a year or so back. “Yeah? You got someone in mind?”

“I think I might, actually. But I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

“Oh? A secret?” Jisung asks, sitting up and looking down at Changbin with intrigue. “Come on, share the secret. I’m trustworthy.”

“Absolutely not. But I’m sure you’ll be the first to find out,” he says, sitting up to match with Jisung. “You wanna play a game?”

“Sure. You wanna heat up a pizza?”

”Sure.”

_So that’s the end of that._

* * *

Jisung lucks out the next morning, too, finding the apartment empty by the time he wakes up to go to work. Seungmin usually doesn’t head out so early, he prefers to study at home, but Jisung is still a bit skeptical about sharing his escapades. He heads to work, which is dead as usual on a Friday, and spends his time doing what little coursework he’s been assigned for the weekend. He’d gotten so much done on his projects last week and during labs that his upcoming days are actually looking a little more empty than usual. It’s not a feeling he’s used to, and Jisung briefly even wonders if he should pick up a second job, but decides that while his necessities are still being met by his parents he should really focus on his music and getting his name out there.

Which, speaking of.

Jisung tries, tries _hard_ , not to dwell on how his music is doing for too long. He’d gone through a phase last year where he was obsessed with checking his stats and watching how many people had streamed new songs, to the point where he let it dictate his mood constantly. So he’s limited himself to checking every other day, and today is his day. He logs on to the main streaming service he uses and checks to see… the numbers are up! By a pretty significant amount, too; At least twenty percent from what they had been at before. Nothing viral, but some damn good growth. He looks at the secondary service he uses, one that’s a little more obscure and caters more towards other musicians, and sees that those numbers are up too, if not by quite as much.

 **Jisung:** _Hey, are you awake?_

 **Minho:** _I am, I’m on my way to work. Where’s my pickup line?_

 **Jisung:** _I need a doctor cuz you take my breath away_

 **Jisung:** _Anyway, have you been spreading my music around? The streams are up and I think you’re the only one who grabbed a card recently._

 **Minho:** _I left a few of your cards in the nurses lounge. And I’ve been streaming it too._

 **Jisung:** _(ΘεΘ_

 **Minho:** _ugh_

 **Jisung:** _Thank you so much._

 **Minho:** _You’re welcome :) It’s really good music._

 **Jisung:** _You the best._

 **Minho:** _Oh?_

 **Jisung:** _?_

 **Minho:** _What are you doing tomorrow?_

 **Jisung:** _I’m miraculously free._

 **Minho:** _Want to meet up? Grab a few drinks?_

 **Jisung:** _yes (ΘεΘ_

 **Minho:** _ugh_

 **Jisung:** _What time do you get off work?_

 **Minho:** _6\. I’ll just need a little time to change._

 **Jisung:** _I can pick you up at the hospital if you want to go from there?_

 **Minho:** _With a horse and carriage?_

 **Jisung:** _With my legs._

 **Minho:** _I’ll try to eat a light lunch so I don’t weigh you down._

 **Jisung:** _Thanks man._

 **Minho:** _See you at 6:15? I’ll text you the address?_

 **Jisung:** _See you then (ΘεΘ_

Well if that isn’t a cause to celebrate, he isn’t sure what is.

For the first time in a long time Jisung seems to have a Friday night free. Maybe he’ll actually be able to take Seungmin up on one of those nights out he’s always being invited to. At the very least he kind of wants someone to spill to about Minho.

When he gets back to the dorm, Seungmin is in the shower, and when Jisung walks past his room he sees a conspicuously nice outfit hanging up on display (not that he would ever peep). It seems a little nicer than what they usually wear for a night at the bar, but who is he to judge? Jisung puts his stuff away and settles himself in the living room, waiting for his roommate to come out so he can hopefully find his way into some plans tonight.

Seungmin emerges some fifteen minutes later, fresh in a tee shirt and sweatpants, apparently not ready to head out quite yet. _Ah, it’s still only early afternoon._

“Hello, my dear roommate,” Jisung says, giving Seungmin a big smile and opening his arms from his spot on the couch. “Would you like to give your roommate some love?”

“Is it a trap?” Seungmin asks suspiciously. Jisung shakes his head, stands, and walks towards Seungmin with his arms open, standing still when he arrives in front of him. Seungmin still looks wary, but embraces Jisung stiffly, which Jisung responds to with a tight squeeze. “What’s all this about?”

 _So his friendly demeanor is being seen through._ “Well first of all, I’m a little offended you think I’m up to something just for wanting a hug,” Jisung accuses, pulling away to frown at his roommate. “But, I was actually wondering what you were doing tonight? I barely have any work for once. Are you and the guys going out like usual?”

“Oh.” Seungmin looks surprised, and it dawns on Jisung just how long it must have been since he’d actually joined on their Friday night escapades. He’s just gotten used to filling his time with all work and no play. “Actually, I can’t tonight. I’m sorry Sungie. I’m glad you got a night off, though.”

 _Damn_. “Huh. Bad luck, I guess. Do you know if Lix and Hyunjin are still going?” Jisung asks, sitting back on the couch. Seungmin joins him and clicks on the tv, lowering the volume so they can still talk.

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t. You should text them,” he says as he leans back into the sofa. His hair is still dripping wet, and Jisung watches as a water droplet rolls down his neck before losing self control and flicking it away.

“Yeah. Damn, look at me begging for plans,” Jisung sighs. Seungmin nods in agreement. “So where are you going?”

Seungmin freezes a little. “Just meeting up with someone. Some drinks with a guy who I share classes with,” he responds.

“Oh? Minnie, you’ve got a date?” Jisung asks, poking his shoulder. Seungmin lets a smile break his facade and laughs a little. “Good for you man. Anyone I know?”

“Just a guy from my classes” Seungmin says with a laugh. “Focus on yourself.”

“I am. Actually, I think you’ll be pleased to know, Changbin and I have ceased boning,” Jisung says proudly.

“And why would I be pleased to know that?” Seungmin asks, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Not that I’m not, I think it was messy.”

“I don’t know, you seemed opposed to it the whole time,” Jisung says. Seungmin purses his lips a bit, seemingly focused on the reality show in front of them. They watch in intrigue as a young couple screams at each other until the woman finally leaves, slamming the door in her husband’s face. It must have been bad. “I think I’m involved with a nurse, though, so that’s fun,” Jisung says.

“Pardon?” Seungmin asks, snapping his head around to look at Jisung. “I was joking about him, I didn’t think you were seriously going to go out? When did this even happen?”

“Wednesday?” Jisung offers meekly. “Are you mad? Why do I feel like you’re mad?”

“I’m not mad, I’m just surprised. So you two are… what? Dating?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that. We did make out in a bar bathroom though,” Jisung says contemplatively. He really does like to get a rise out of Seungmin when possible, and this seems to be doing the job. “A dirty one. A dive bar.”

“That’s just great, Jisung,” Seungmin says, scooting a little bit away.

“Anyway. I’m supposed to see him again tomorrow,” Jisung says.

“To do what?”

“Drinks again. I’m gonna meet him after he gets off work and we’ll go out after.”

“You know, going out on a Saturday night for drinks sounds a lot like a date,” Seungmin says.

“You know, meeting your classmate on a Friday night also sounds a lot like a date,” Jisung shoots back.

“At least I have plans” Seungmin says, cackling when Jisung loses his words. He pulls out his phone and starts typing away to Felix and Hyunjin to establish some plans with them as Seungmin peers over his shoulder.

They spend the night in a cozy booth at the local dive bar, a deck of cards providing evening entertainment as they laugh themselves into a drunken stupor.

* * *

“Seungmin, does this look ok? Or does it look like I’m trying too hard? Or not hard enough?” Jisung asks frantically, showing off his outfit. Seungmin looks him up and down and smiles.

“You’re nervous,” he says coyly. _Yeah, no shit._ “Why?”

“I’m not nervous.” _A lie._ ”

“Yes you are, or you wouldn’t be asking me this.”

“I just want to know if these pants,” Jisung says, pointing at the dark cigarette jeans he’s wearing, “match this shirt.” Seungmin doesn’t need to know the burgundy shirt he’s got on is the third thing he’d tried on that night. He doesn’t need to know he’d unbuttoned and rebuttoned the top three buttons numerous times before deciding on leaving the top two undone. He just needs to tell Jisung if it looks good.

He looks at Jisung contemplatively before giving a nod of approval. “It’s a good outfit. You should french tuck the shirt. Show off your waist,” Seungmin suggests. “If it was a date, I’d say you should maybe put a little eyeshadow on. But you keep saying it’s not one.”

“Like this?” Jisung asks, tucking in just the front of the shirt. Seungmin nods and gives a thumbs up. “So it’s not a date. But if I were to go on a date at some point and wear eyeshadow,” Jisung says, pausing to feign nonchalance, “what kind of eyeshadow should that be? Hypothetically?”

“Hypothetically. Right, hypothetically you look nice with darker colors. Maybe a shimmery dark grey or something.”

“Noted,” Jisung says, looking at his phone. He’s got about ten minutes before he needs to head out. That’s enough time for a quick wash of color. “Hey, um. I think I forgot something in my room. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Jisung darts away from his roommate, hoping he bought the lie, but incredibly doubtful. He digs through the tiny amount of makeup he has, which is really just concealer, a few shadows, and some eyeliner, and finds a small palette with a shade that matches. _Thank you, Felix, for last year’s secret santa present._ His friend had always had more of a knack for this than Jisung himself, but he tries to channel the advice he’d been given as he swipes the shadow on his lids and blends. It only takes a few minutes, but he’d like to at least keep the act up for Seungmin no matter how obvious it may be, so he hides in his room until he has to go and darts out the door with a quick goodbye, trying to keep his face hidden.

The hospital is only a quick walk from Jisung’s familiar station, and luckily it’s unseasonably warm this evening, because Jisung finds himself early. Minho had instructed him to the employee entrance, so he waits and people watches, playing a game with himself on what kind of medical professional each person is. The older woman with kind brown eyes looks like she works in obstetrics. The severe looking man with his hair slicked back gives off heart surgeon vibes. There’s a younger woman who had him stumped. She’s got nearly flawless skin and looks incredibly well rested, so initially he thinks she might be a dermatologist. But something feels off about that, because there’s kind of a wild look in her eyes. Maybe she’s actually an emergency room nurse who just happens to have incredibly good taste in skincare products.

The game ends there, because the next person to walk out is Minho, and not only does he stand out for being one of the only people out of uniform, but also for just… being Minho. This is the first time Jisung has laid eyes on him since their night of fun and he’d almost forgotten how much he likes looking at him. “Minho!”

Minho looks up, seemingly a little surprised at the shout, but waves when he catches sight of Jisung. He’s got on those same tight jeans as before, but this time with a striped shirt that’s just a bit more casual than the other night. “Hi,” Minho says when he gets to Jisung, giving a charming smile. Jisung finds himself smiling back subconsciously, infected by the enthusiasm. He can sense Minho’s gaze shifting down, resting comfortably on his lips, and he waits for the lean in, excited to get even a fraction of the thrilling feeling he’d had two nights ago back. But it doesn’t come, Minho just places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “Thanks for picking me up.”

Upon closer inspection, Minho seems to be a bit… off. He still looks great, but his eyes look both tired and also bloodshot from too much caffeine. His smile is a little crooked, not in the charming smirk kind of way it normally is, but in a way that makes him look like he’s trying really hard to keep it on. “Hey. How are you feeling?” Jisung asks. He’s trying to be cautious of his phrasing and make sure he doesn’t imply that Minho looks like shit, especially since Minho has called him out for his nervous rambling in the past.

“I’m excited to go out,” Minho says, shifting his hand to Jisung’s elbow and leading them away from the hospital.

“Oh yeah? How long was your shift?” Jisung asks.

Minho hesitates for a moment before answering. “Thirteen… no, fifteen hours? Fifteen hours. I got called in early.”

“Holy shit! Minho, how are you even standing?” Jisung asks. He had expected a few hours extra, but that’s almost an entirely new shift!

“A lot of coffee and a deal with the devil,” Minho responds grimly.

“Do you want to reschedule? Because I’m not going to be offended if you want to reschedule. I don’t think doctors recommend drinking when you’re already half dead.”

“No!” Minho says, almost too quickly. The caffeine must be getting to him more than he realized. He clears his throat and tries again. “No, I don’t want to reschedule. You look really good, that would be such a waste.”

Jisung tries really hard to pretend that didn’t just awaken butterflies in his stomach. “So you want to risk collapsing in public to… look at me?” he asks.

“Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound that appealing. What if we did something chill?”

“Like?”

“We could just go to my place? Watch a movie?” Minho suggests. He shoves his hand in his pockets and shivers a little when a breeze cuts through the buildings, furthering the feeling in Jisung’s gut that he’s barely holding on.

“Ok, a movie. Let’s go watch a movie,” Jisung says, gently removing his elbow from Minho’s hold and linking their arms instead. “To the station?”

“To the station.”

They make their way to Minho’s apartment steadily, Jisung asking for a brief summary of the day and instead ending up with a detailed account of a kid who stuck marbles up his nose and all that went along with such a scenario. Jisung can tell he’s laughing too loud for a crowded train but he can’t help it, maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe it’s just Minho but every word that leaves his mouth feels like something Jisung has never heard before, and he holds onto each sentiment with bated breath. Minho seems to be coming steadily back to life too, eyes brightening a little when Jisung provides his input or asks ridiculous questions. Before he knows it Jisung is being keyed into an apartment building and being led upstairs and down the hall. It’s a nice building, modern and clean, and soon Minho is opening the door to his own unit and pulling Jisung inside.

“So it’s not very big,” Minho says, motioning to his unit. It’s a studio, a rather nice one, but a studio nonetheless. Minho seems to keep things clean, and between the kitchen area that leads into his entertaining space there’s barely a thing out of place. His bed is hidden behind a foldable screen, but Jisung can’t imagine that’s too much different.

“It’s nice, though.”

“Thanks.” Minho walks over to his fridge and opens it, inspecting the contents. “So as far as drinks go, I have water, sparkling water, orange juice, and a mysterious can of beer I don’t remember ever not being there. Any of that sound appetizing?”

“I’ll pass on the mystery beer. Sparkling water is good,” Jisung says, taking a seat at the kitchen island. “Very healthy options.”

“Well, I am a medical professional. I have to try,” Minho explains. He pulls out two unmatched glasses from his cupboard and pours a can of lemon seltzer into each. “What do you want to watch?”

“Something brainless,” Jisung says. “Halloween is in like two weeks, let’s find a shitty horror movie and laugh at the idiots.”

“I think brainless suits me just fine right now.”

Brainless is surprisingly easy to find, especially around this time of year. They may not have any candy to snack on to set the mood, but Minho makes some popcorn and lets Jisung load it with as much butter as he wants while they gather up some blankets and get cozy. Minho’s couch is small, it has to be for a space like this, but Jisung doesn’t mind too much at all. Not when it all but forces him to huddle up into Minho’s side and has such massive potential for a cute little head-resting-on-shoulder action later.

Or a little _this couch is too small, guess I’d better sit on your lap and shove my tongue down your throat _action.__

Both sound appealing, but Minho’s being a little more elusive than expected. When they’d agreed to meet again, Jisung had kind of expected them to… dive right back in? Pick up where they’d left off? Not immediately, obviously, and it’s not as if he only wants to see Minho for sex. But now he’s confused, because Minho _does_ press into him. He taps Jisung’s knee excitedly when someone on the screen walks into the room of death, and leaves his hand there smooth as can be. When he makes a funny comment and Jisung bursts out laughing, throws his body onto Minho’s in an attempt to keep himself grounded, he feels an arm wrap around him and keep him close. But when Jisung realizes the position and tries to take advantage, looks up at Minho from his spot on the other man’s chest and smiles, Minho meets his eyes for no more than a second before clearing his throat and looking back at the screen. _Ok, so that was a bust._

But it’s not as if Minho’s completely disinterested; Jisung can feel his gaze flicker over his face and linger on his lips. He feels it especially strongly when they slip into conversation, discussing all the potential ways the character on screen could have avoided her current situation.

“Perhaps if she thought there was a serial killer in her house she should have told someone instead of going into her basement alone,” Jisung chimes in, watching as the woman struggles to get out of the rope she’s been tied up in.

“I agree. She should have called the cops and hidden in her bed, under the covers. That way she’d at least have peace of mind.

Jisung looks up at him, only mildly surprised to see how close they are, nearly face to face. “But I’m not really sure that would be safe. Safer than the basement, sure, but isn’t that a bit defenseless?” Jisung asks.

“No, beds are a safety zone. Monsters can’t get in. They’re too squishy and comfortable,” Minho explains. Jisung can’t help but laugh, especially when he looks so serious saying it, eyes narrow and focused. They soften when Jisung meets them, and for a second Jisung thinks he might finally get his kiss, especially when they trail down. But again, Minho looks back to the screen. _What the hell?_

“I see,” Jisung sighs, resting his head back on Minho’s chest where it was previously. He turns his attention to the tv as well, watching as yet another idiot wanders where they shouldn’t. When the villain jumps out, some nondescript form that seems to encapsulate all things evil, he feels himself jump despite the corny effects. Minho tightens his grip around Jisung’s shoulders, and Jisung looks up to see him chewing his bottom lip. This is getting so annoying.

 _Something has to give_.

Jisung taps on Minho’s shoulder, causing him to look down. He hoists himself up and around to face Minho directly, climbing into his lap when he sees a little smile ghost it’s way onto the other man’s lips. “Hey,” Jisung says, placing a hand on the back of Minho’s neck. “Can I-”

“Yeah.” Minho doesn’t let him finish his sentence, placing his hands on Jisung’s hips and pulling him closer.

“Good,” Jisung breathes, leaning in closer to Minho’s face, pressing his lips to Minho’s, sighing in relief when he finally gets what he’s been waiting for. Minho seems to mimic the sentiment, interlocking their lips almost immediately and deepening the kiss. They stay like that for a bit, Jisung cautious to push things further knowing how exhausted Minho is. It’s Minho who eventually takes it there, nibbling at Jisung’s lower lip until he lets out a soft groan and taking the opportunity to lick into his mouth. _God, this is only the second time they’ve done this, and it feels like Minho is slowly but surely learning everything that makes Jisung tick._ Eventually they have to come up for air, though Minho keeps his hands firmly on his hips to let Jisung know they aren’t done yet.

“You were waiting for that, huh?” he says with a smirk. Jisung nods. It’s not worth lying.

“You took too long, and I was promised a continuation of the other night:.

“Happy now?” Minho asks.

“Not yet,” Jisung says, leaning back in for more. Minho loosens his purchase on Jisung’s hips, moving one hand up to his upper back and the other down to his ass, squeezing and biting his lip at the same time to trigger a shudder of pleasure. It wasn’t a fluke the other night, not some drunken fit of passion; even cold sober every single touch burns. The movie in the background fades into oblivion, and all Jisung can focus on is _Minho_. His lips, his hands, the faint chuckles he lets out when Jisung lets out little moans he’s given up trying to control. Everything about Minho sets Jisung aflame. It’s hard to resist wanting to push things just a little further.

So he doesn’t.

Jisung curls his fingers into Minho’s hair, grinds his hips into Minho’s lap, runs his lips down Minho’s neck. “Minho, I want more,” he breathes into his ear, grinning when he feels him nod. He takes hold of Jisung’s waist and flips him onto the couch, so Jisung is laid on his back and Minho gets the bird’s eye view. It’s cramped, and Jisung can’t even lay his legs out all the way without his feet bumping into the arm of the chair. He tries to ignore it, instead focusing on the way Minho’s fingers feel when they slip under the hem of his shirt and crawl up his torso, pushing the fabric up and chasing the trail with his lips. But when Minho thumbs over a nipple and Jisung jerks in reaction, his ankle crashes into hard wood and he has to cut things off.

“Minho, the bed,” Jisung says, voice a little strained with pain.

“Hmm?” Minho humms, preoccupied with sucking a hickey into Jisung’s chest. It’s low, somewhere other people would never see. How considerate.

“Can we move to the bed? Somewhere more comfortable? This feels hazardous.”

“Oh.” Minho lifts his head up and looks at Jisung, a little amused smile on his face. It’s not the smirk he’s worn in the past, he looks genuinely gleeful to be in this situation. “Yeah. To the bed,” he says, climbing off of Jisung and helping him off the couch. They walk the four feet to the bed, and Jisung peers behind the screen to take a look.

It looks comfortable. It’s not big, maybe a full, but the navy sheets are neatly tucked in and Minho’s grey and white comforter looks clean and soft. It’s very… Minho. They haven’t known each other long at all, but Jisung can say that for sure. Minho lays down on the bed and Jisung crawls on top of him, admiring the smell of fresh linen and a slight hint of cologne that lingers in the air. Jisung finds himself wondering if Minho freshly washed the sheets anticipating his arrival. Is that cocky to think about? Perverted? Maybe. A hand on the back of his neck pulls Jisung out of the thought train and back into the real world, where Minho is laid under him and trying to get another kiss.

“Um, actually, just give me one second. Bathroom,” Jisung says, suddenly a little nervous.

“Ok. It’s just to the left. Only other room in the place,” he responds, winking when Jisung nods and climbs back off the bed. He’s still shirtless and the apartment is a little bit chilly, though he tries not to do anything to show his discomfort while Minho is watching him.

When he gets to the bathroom, Jisung starts the faucet on cold and splashes a little water on his neck to hopefully quell his nerves. The kisses, the comfy bed, the cuddling; they’re all things he hasn’t experienced for a while. He hadn’t really thought about it when they’d made plans, had kind of just been giving into the fact that he felt _good_ with Minho, but they’re probably about to sleep together. And it’s not like he’s a prude, Jisung likes sex, but the past five months has been strict sex with nothing fluffy. No kisses, no cuddles, no feelings. Jisung can barely go ten minutes without wanting to kiss Minho, that’s certainly not going to change in the heat of the moment. Are there actual feelings there? It’s probably too early to tell, but there’s intrigue and attraction if nothing else.

What better way to learn than to experience?

Jisung looks down, contemplating if he should just take off his pants if they’re going to be messing around anyway, but opts to keep them on. Having Minho undress him doesn’t sound half bad.

With a plan in place and a bit more peace of mind (although he’s really still at square one; whatever happens, happens), Jisung steps out of the bathroom and pads back towards Minho’s bed. He looks cute, curled up on his side with his cheek resting on his arm.

“Hey, I’m back,” Jisung says, crawling onto the bed and plopping down next to Minho. He jerks, blinking rapidly and smiling.

“Welcome back."

“Were you asleep?” Jisung giggles, laughing at how embarrassed he looks.

“I wasn’t”

He absolutely was.

“Are you tired?” Jisung asks, seizing the opportunity to poke fun at him.

“Nope,” Minho responds, pulling Jisung closer to him and pressing their lips together. Jisung smiles into it, finding it difficult to take things seriously when Minho is acting like a kid who doesn’t want to go to sleep. “It’s hard to make out with you when you’re smiling like that.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jisung says, pulling away slightly and planting a light kiss to Minho’s jaw. He hears a positive hum in response and takes that as a sign to keep going, kissing down his neck and sucking into it, careful not to leave anything that will give him away. The soft hums turn into deep breaths as Jisung makes his way down to Minho’s collarbone, frustrated when his shirt prevents him from going any lower.

“Minho, sit up for a second,” Jisung mumbles into his skin, waiting for a move. None comes. “Minho?” he tries again, pulling his lips off the other man’s skin to make sure his voice is clearer this time. Still nothing.

Jisung looks up to Minho again, laughing loudly when he sees his eyes shut and his mouth slightly parted, deep even breaths going in and out. Jisung crawls farther up Minho’s body and presses his nose to Minho’s, whispering against his lips, “are you sure you’re not asleep?”

Minho’s eyes snap open before he squeezes them shut, groaning. “Fuck. I’m sorry, god, I really don’t want to be.”

“Fifteen hours is a long shift,” Jisung says, rolling onto his side so they lay parallel to each other. He’s a little disappointed, sure, but he can’t really blame Minho for being exhausted. “Don’t worry about it. I can head out. We’ll just meet up again soon?”

“No!” Minho says quickly, surprising Jisung. He turns to his side to look at Minho questioningly. “I mean, no, don’t leave yet.” He leans in to place a little kiss to Jisung’s nose pulls back. “Have I told you you look really nice tonight? You look really nice tonight. I like the eyeshadow.”

Damn, that feels intimate. Once again, everything Jisung expects from him, Minho offers two-fold. “Thank you,” he says quietly. Is he blushing? He feels like he’s blushing.

“I don’t have much energy,” Minho says.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“But if I asked you to stay for a little longer and lay with me?”

“I can do that,” Jisung responds. “But I’m going to put my shirt back on. Because it’s cold.”

“Well that doesn’t seem comfortable at all. Hang on,” Minho says, getting up and out of bed. He digs through a chest of drawers for a moment before tossing a hoodie and a pair of pajama pants Jisung’s way.

“Are we having a pajama party?”

“Yes, because I’m uncomfortable and want to change, but as a host it would be rude to do so alone. So we’re having a pajama party,” Minho responds. “I’m changing in the bathroom.”

 _What have I gotten myself into?_ Jisung isn’t quite sure he follows Minho’s line of thought, and he seems to constantly be swept up in his pace. But it’s fun, and the sweatshirt is soft and smells good, so maybe it’s alright.

Minho comes out a few minutes later, looking fresh and clean in an oversized shirt and shorts and smelling faintly of mint toothpaste.

“Better?” Jisung asks, laughing when Minho flops onto his stomach and buries his face in his pillow. _Cute_.

“Better. You? Are you comfortable?” he asks, turning his head on the pillow. Jisung matches his position, rotating onto his stomach and facing Minho as well.

“Very comfortable. What should we do? Braid each other’s hair?”

“Are you good at braiding hair?”

“No, you’ll probably end up with knots. Are you?” Jisung asks.

“I am, actually. I learned at summer camp,” Minho says. He holds up his wrist and reveals a dainty leather braided bracelet. “I made this when I was bored a few months ago.”

Jisung catches his wrist, inspecting the bracelet more thoroughly. It’s a little frayed at the edge but Minho has done a surprisingly good job with it. “It’s cute. You’re a man of many talents.”

“So you want a braid?”

“Sure, why not?” Jisung scoots closer to Minho and plops his head down for easy access.

“I’m thinking bangs.”

“I’m at your mercy.”

It feels nice, letting Minho run his hands through his hair. Jisung takes the opportunity to quiz him, throwing out questions about what else he did at camp (kiss a boy for the first time) and who else’s hair he’s been braiding (only his little cousin’s). It doesn’t take long to finish, Jisung only has a few inches worth of hair, so Minho makes him hold one braid and gives him a matching one on the other side, cackling when he snaps a few pictures and Jisung holds them up like alien antennae. Jisung doesn’t have any reason to pull out his phone and start snapping pictures of Minho back, just the vague excuse of “revenge”, but he does so anyway.

Jisung continues pestering Minho about summer camp;

“I bet I was a better kisser than the boy.”

“You are.”

“I know, and I’ll prove it.”

A lame excuse to tangle his legs up with Minho’s and connect their lips again, but worth the workaround when he gets to taste minty fresh breath and feel the silky smooth skin of Minho’s back under his fingers when he lets his hand creep under his shirt hem and up his spine. It’s not fiery like before, more like a dull warmth; the kisses stay sweet and chaste, interrupted by little conversations and stream of consciousness thoughts while they slowly lose themselves to sleep. Jisung hadn’t intended to spend the night, he never had with Changbin, it helped to keep things casual.

Somehow, this night has felt anything but.

* * *

Jisung wakes up feeling exceptionally warm and cozy, and it doesn’t take long to figure out why. He’s got one leg hitched around Minho’s hips and his nose buried in the back of the other man’s neck, breathing in the smell of skin and ivory soap. He’s pretty sure they hadn’t fallen asleep that way, but he’s always had a tendency to hug anything in his path while he’s asleep, and apparently Minho had been last night’s target. He’s not even entirely sure what time they _went_ to sleep, just that Minho had dozed off first and he had followed in a matter of minutes. What time is it now?

Jisung shifts ever so slightly, trying not to wake Minho as he bends his arm behind himself and feels around for his phone. 7:04 a.m. on a Sunday. He’s got nowhere to be, and the sleep is still in his eyes, so Jisung tosses his phone back behind him, wraps his arm back around Minho to pull him tighter, and lets himself drift back off to sleep. If anyone asks, he never woke up in the first place.

His second awakening is triggered by movement, more specifically Minho shifting in his arms so he’s no longer being spooned and is now facing Jisung. He blinks his eyes open to see a soft smirk and a sleepy gaze meeting his.

“You look like a mess.”

“Good morning to you too,” Jisung says, releasing Minho from his hold. He doesn’t move away from Jisung, but uses his now free hand to swipe at the skin under Jisung’s eye.

“No, I mean, you fell asleep with eye makeup on. You’re giving me very ‘morning after’ vibes,” Minho explains.

Jisung reaches his palm up and rubs at his eye, pulling it away to see a smudge of black has come up, noticing a similar stain on Minho’s pillowcase. “Oh. Shit. I think I messed up your linens.”

“It’s ok, nothing a little bleach can’t fix,” Minho says, rubbing the material between his fingers. He’s a much more coherent morning person than Jisung himself, who’s struggling to form complete sentences. “What are you doing today?”

“Nothing much. Homework later. Might try to write some songs,” Jisung answers. “What time is it?”

“Ten.”

“Do you feel rested?”

“Very much so, thanks for asking,” Minho replies.

“That’s good,” Jisung says, gaze flitting down to Minho’s lips. “So you have energy.”

“I do have energy.” The smile on Minho’s face tells Jisung he knows exactly what he’s getting at. “If you go to the bathroom, in the first drawer, there’s an extra toothbrush. Go use it.”

Jisung nods, damn near leaping out of the bed to follow instructions. Waking up wrapped around a beautiful boy… it’s hard for that not to stir something inside. He’s going to take advantage of whatever’s being offered. He takes a bit of a liberty, stealing a little bit of Minho’s face wash, because he hadn’t been lying about Jisung looking a mess. He practically sprints back to the bed and under the covers, rolling on top of Minho and pulling him into a lazy kiss.

“It really is a good morning,” Minho mumbles against his lips, fingers exploring underneath Jisung’s hoodie and pushing it up and over his head. When it’s off Jisung takes the moment of separation to duck under the covers and down to Minho’s waist, kissing the soft skin around the area and fiddling with the band of his shorts.

“Can I-” Jisung starts to ask, looking up for permission and gently tugging the fabric down. It seems like he’s not the only one who woke up excited if the bulge in Minho’s shorts is anything to go off.

“Obviously,” Minho breathes out anxiously. Jisung pulls down further, slightly surprised to find no more fabric underneath, just flesh and warmth. Minho is clearly desperate for more, but Jisung wants to have a little fun. He follows with his mouth as he pulls the shorts all the way off, kissing his way down Minho’s right leg and back up his left, leaving harder bites and impressions on his thighs until he feels fingers twine through his hair. Minho doesn’t pull hard, just enough to get the message across. “Stop messing around.”

“Just trying to enjoy. You’re so fucking hot,” Jisung replies, leaving one final kiss on Minho’s hipbone before moving where his attention is being demanded. He starts with a couple sweet little kisses before losing his own sense of patience and diving in, the moans Minho lets out music to his ears. It’s warm under the covers, but Jisung barely lets it phase him as he moves his mouth up and down and finds purchase on his hips. It’s not difficult to discern what he likes and doesn’t, his voice tells all, and it isn’t long before he’s pushed to the edge.

“Fuck, Jisung. Jesus, you’re incredible,” he moans out, pulling Jisung’s hand to guide him out from under the blankets and back into a heated kiss.

“No, just selfish,” Jisung whispers between kisses. “Wanted to do that all night.” Minho giggles into the kiss before deepening it, trailing his hand down Jisung’s bare chest and landing at his crotch. He slips a hand into Jisung’s pants, palming over him at first before committing to a loose grip and massaging at a steady rhythm. Jisung has to break the kiss to focus on keeping himself elevated, resting his forehead against Minho’s chest and balancing on his forearms.

“Cute,” Minho whispers, scooting down a bit so he can reach his other arm around Jisung’s back and to his ass. It means Jisung’s head is now resting against Minho’s own, forehead to forehead, eye to eye. Jisung’s gaze is heavy with concentration, but he can still make out the glint in Minho’s eyes, the way he looks amused when Jisung sucks in his breath and the way they crease when he smiles, satisfied with Jisung’s quiet whispers of his name.

_It’s just a simple handjob, how can it possibly feel so good?_

“Minho, please,” Jisung whispers, desperate for as much as he can take. “A little faster, I’m close, please. Faster, baby.”

He follows Jisung’s request, quickening his pace and thumbing over him in just the perfect motion to make a man absolutely lose his mind. “How close?”

“About to- fuck-” Jisung loses his words as he spills out into Minho’s hand, dirtying his shirt even more than they already had. He rolls onto his side, trying to catch his breath as Minho reaches for some tissues to clean them both off. He peels the shirt off as well, tossing it onto the floor before cuddling up to Jisung and placing a kiss on his shoulder, then his collarbone. “God, I love this morning.”

“Me too,” Minho laughs, burying his nose in Jisung’s neck. Jisung rolls, pulls one of Minho’s legs over his hips, wraps an arm around his back, kisses him softly. He wishes he could stay like this all day long.

But that’s not the type of freedom he has.

Jisung forces himself to pull away reluctantly, looking at Minho and searching for words.

“What?” Minho asks, a knowing look on his face. “You have to go soon, don’t you? Don’t want to lay with me?”

“I do.” _He really does_. “But I can’t. I have stuff to get done.”

“I understand,” Minho says, pressing a quick kiss to Jisung’s lips before getting out of bed. He raises his arms up in a mighty stretch, and Jisung ogles his naked form. It’s the first time seeing Minho clearly, outside the bundle of blankets and sheets they’ve called their home for the past twelve hours. His body is as gorgeous as he’d expected, maybe even moreso.

“That’s not helping me want to leave,” Jisung says, tongue swiping his bottom lip subconsciously.

“It’s not supposed to,” Minho replies. He grabs Jisung’s clothes off the floor and tosses them onto the bed, pulling a new outfit from his chest of drawers and beginning to clothe himself. Jisung does the same from where he sits. “Do you want breakfast?”

“You’re going to make me breakfast, baby?” Jisung asks in a teasing tone.

“No, but I’m willing to walk with you to a really, really good coffee shop. If you brush your hair.”

“Deal.”

Minho lives in a sweet neighborhood, one full of independently owned restaurants and trinket shops. The cafe Minho brings them to really is good, and they sit at a little outdoor table to enjoy their iced americanos and chocolate croissants. By the time they finish it’s already one in the afternoon, and Jisung isn’t entirely sure how to say goodbye.

“This was incredible,” he says, licking the last little bit of chocolate from his lower lip. His coffee is long gone, just melted down ice at the bottom of his cup, so there’s no more excuse to stay.

“It always is,” Minho says. He dusts his hands off and starts crumpling all their trash up together. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. What for?”

“For staying with me even though the plans changed,” Minho explains. _Oh._ Everything had settled so nicely Jisung kind of forgot that wasn’t how the night was supposed to go.

“I think it was better this way,” Jisung responds.

“Yeah, but I still want to take you out for drinks. Like we originally planned.”

“Well you know where to find me.”

“I do. So maybe Wednesday?”

“I’ll be there.”

Jisung ventures home with a spring in his step and a smile on his face he can’t quite erase. It persists through chilled weather, through a teasing Seungmin, through a shower that uncovers marks he’s in no rush to watch disappear. And with every reminder of his night before, with _did you make it home safe?_ texts and dollar bills stacked neatly in his sock drawer and hoodies that are comfortable but not _quite_ as comfortable as what Minho had provided, its lifetime extends.

Jisung can’t quite recall ever having so many feelings for somebody so quickly.

But he isn’t quite ready to make them stop.


	2. All In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow sorry this took way longer than expected to finish! I got a little lost halfway through, and I worry the ending is a bit rushed, but I hope you all like how their progression goes. I'm personally quite satisfied :) 
> 
> P.S. I know you're all wondering and I was finally able to hit gold in league currently sitting at gold 2 debating if I should try to grind for plat because it's almost certainly unrealistic.

Despite not making plans until Wednesday night, the next time Jisung actually sees Minho is just one day after their sweet little breakfast. Minho walks quickly through the station at his regular time, smiling politely at a woman who bumps into him, and Jisung knows he’s supposed to meet with some friends but finds himself rather pleased when he still breaks his route and heads towards the busking setup.

Jisung smiles and opens his mouth to say something, only to find himself losing any sense of eloquence he’s ever thought he might have as Minho gets closer. He looks good (he always looks good), but the contrast between seeing him walk through the station in his scrubs is such a stark contrast to the image Jisung has ingrained in his head from the day before, bare and open and his for the taking, that suddenly his mind is reeling.

The only word he’s able to stutter out is a meek “Hi,” before Minho breaks into a smile and stifles a laugh.

“Hi,” he says, stepping up closer and leaning in for a kiss. Jisung stiffens, his breath hitches, unsure what to do, but Minho stops before connecting their lips. It’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss Minho, he’s come to enjoy it quite a lot, but he doesn’t want to kiss Minho _here,_ in a crowded train station surrounded by strangers who have no right into his personal life. Minho notices the change and pulls away, instead grabbing Jisung’s shoulder gently and squeezing. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jisung reaches for Minho’s hand and squeezes back, letting his guitar hang loose from the strap around his neck.

“No, you told me you don’t like PDA, I forgot. Scouts honor, won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, I just… I don’t feel like broadcasting my personal life to the world. It’s not their business. And especially here, I’m at this station so often, I can’t afford to turn anyone away, you know?” Jisung explains guiltily.

“Jisung, it’s fine. I get it,” Minho says softly.

“Ok. Good. So um. How was your day?” he tries.

“It was good,” Minho replies with a gentle smile. “Hey, I’m sorry that I don’t have much time but I have to get home. I just wanted to say hi. And wish you good luck on the rest of your time here. Have fun, ok?”

“Oh, thank you. Always do,” Jisung says with a grimace. “I hope you have fun with, um. Chen?”

“Chan,” Minho laughs. “I’m sure we will. Bye Jisung.” He starts walking away and sends Jisung a little wink, which triggers a little grin he can’t quite hold back.

So that could have gone better.

But it certainly could have gone worse.

* * *

“So tell me about your weekend. I barely saw you, which means you must have been busy,” Seungmin asks, poking Jisung in the thigh. It’s a Tuesday night and Jisung had gotten most of his work done during his shift at the library, so now he and Seungmin are sat on the sofa, computers in their respective laps as they’ve been trading feedback on their projects for the past two hours. Seungmin seems utterly done, first trying to distract Jisung with funny videos and now pestering him about Minho.

“It was a good weekend,” Jisung responds, keeping things vague on purpose.

“Ok, and?”

“And it was pretty mild. Minho was wiped, so we didn’t go out. Just watched a movie and stuff,” Jisung says. He knows Seungmin wants more, but he’s going to have to work for it.

“Did you stay over?” Seungmin asks.

“Yeah, I wasn’t home, you didn’t notice?”

“I wasn’t home either.”

“Excuse me?” _Huh?_ “Who exactly are you suddenly so taken with? A Seungmin that doesn’t come home is no Seungmin I know,” Jisung pesters. Seungmin dating has become almost as unheard of as Jisung himself in the past year and a half, and as fun as it is to joke around about it, he genuinely wants to know who his friend has eyes for.

“Tell me yours I’ll tell you mine,” Seungmin teases.

“Oh my god, it wasn’t a huge thing. We watched a movie. We talked. We kissed. Talked some more. Fell asleep,” Jisung defends.

“Han Jisung you’re out here kissing boys, that _is_ a big deal. You don’t kiss people you don’t like,” Seungmin gasps. Jisung pouts his lips out and makes smoochy faces towards Seungmin.

“That’s not true. Come here Seungminnie, I’ll kiss you right now,” he says, leaning in closer.

“No thank you. Is that really all?”

“Well, maybe we got a little more handsy in the morning. And went to breakfast. Minho knows a really good cafe, it was incredible. We stayed for like two hours.” Jisung licks his lips at the thought. He can almost taste the chocolate croissant lingering on his lips. Next time he stays at Minho’s place they have to go again.

_Next time?_

“I can’t believe you’re actually dating someone.”

“I could say the same for you. I thought you still had a thing for that mystery crush,” Jisung leans his head back onto the couch and stares at the ceiling in thought. “We aren’t dating, though.”

“Are you sure about that?” Seungmin asks. Jisung lets his head roll to the side, taking in his friend's smug expression.

“Yep. Just hooking up. Like with Bin,” Jisung fibs. Seungmin laughs out loud.

“Shut up, this is nothing like you were with Changbin. You’re enamored,” he accuses.

“Fine, it’s not like with Bin. But I need to make a name for myself before I can focus on dating. One step at a time,” Jisung says slowly. Hopefully that happens sooner than later.

“Yeah, ok. One step at a time,” Seungmin repeats.

He flicks on a movie after that, successfully taking both of their attentions away from the conversation and onto some lovesick romcom that Jisung likes more than he should. The male lead is annoying and pushy, and Jisung finds himself grateful that Minho is everything he’s not.

* * *

Given the difference in their shifts, Minho agrees to take a redo from their last meetup and let Jisung pick him up at work. He’s clearly taken advantage of the hour and a half he had to kill at the hospital, because when Jisung sees him he looks freshly showered, hair still just the slightest bit damp, adorned in a big sweater and fitted pants that suit the changing season to a tee.

“I like the look,” Jisung coos, focusing in on Minho’s too long sleeves and the way his fingers just barely peek out. Minho is a little bit taller than him, but like this he looks absolutely miniscule. _Cute._ “And you look rested this time, too.”

“It was a good shift. And I had time to chill after,” Minho says, stepping a little closer to Jisung and brushing something off his shoulder. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“I meant to say this the other night,” he says, directing Jisung where to start walking, “but I was right.”

“About what?”

“You do look super cute in hoodies.”

Jisung looks down at himself and his outfit. “This?” he asks, holding out the hem of his sweatshirt. It’s nothing special, just a black school hoodie he’d purchased around this time last year. They’d opted to go to the bar they first went out to, so casual seemed like the best bet. “I was just trying to fend off the cold. But if that’s your thing, then I’m glad it suits me. I just like it cuz it’s soft,” Jisung says. Minho laughs and reaches an arm out to touch it, rubbing a spot on the back of the hoodie.

“It is soft,” he says, oh so casually moving the arm to the other side of Jisung’s waist and pulling him a little closer as they walk. “And it is cold. Is this ok? Like, in public wise, is this too much?”

“It’s fine.” Any effect the chilled air had taken on him previously completely disappears, overridden by a fierce flush to his cheeks. “It’s good. Warm.” He edges just a little bit further into Minho’s side, as close as he can without tangling their legs as they walk. It makes the already short journey go by even quicker, and when they have to separate Jisung mourns the loss.

Apparently wednesday is whiskey night, and Jisung and Minho get settled at the same hightop as before as they wait for their highballs and scope out the bar. It’s less crowded than last time, seems to be the kind of place that fills up later at night, and the pool tables and dartboard are all open with the lack of patrons.

“I never understood why darts went hand in hand with bars. Doesn’t that seem intimidating? Drunk people and pointy objects?” Minho asks, probably rhetorically.

“I’ve never actually played.”

Minho’s expression changes from one of haphazard appreciation to something else entirely. “What? You’re a college student, you never go out to shitty bars and play darts?”

“I don’t go out all that often, and when I have we’ve never played darts. Aren’t you the one who just said it was dangerous? Shouldn’t you be praising me, as a healthcare professional?” Jisung laughs, defending his boring lifestyle.

“Yeah, but you’re allowed to be dumb when you’re young,” Minho says. “Come on, we have to play.”

“Hey, hey!” Jisung cries out, protesting when Minho gets up from the table and takes hold of his elbow to get him to follow. “Wait, let me grab my drink! Aren’t you supposed to be preventing this stuff, doctor’s oath and all?”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“How many darts related injuries must you have treated, though? Must be a lot. Why add another?”

“I’ve treated three darts related injuries and two of them were nerf darts to the eye. The kids were fine,” Minho replies. “Are you going to throw a dart at someone’s eye?”

“I might. I don’t know my own strength. It could bounce,” Jisung says, widening his eyes innocently.

“Jesus, you really don’t know darts work. You stay here,” Minho laughs, setting his drink on a hightop by the dart board. “I’m gonna go pay for some time and get the darts.”

Jisung nods, leaning against their new table and watching him walk away. Minho is acting very… boyfriendy. It kind of sets off a flag in his head, _make sure he knows this is casual,_ but he pushes it back. Minho knows that, he definitely does, so he must just be a flirty person. Wouldn’t it be rude of Jisung not to indulge and flirt back?

“Back,” Minho says upon return, placing the darts on the table pointedly.

“Thank goodness, I was about to find myself another date,” Jisung teases, picking one up and inspecting it. “It’s plastic.”

“I know. _That’s_ why darts are still allowed in bars. The tip goes in these little divots,” Minho explains, walking up to the target and pointing.

“The things you learn. Why do I study so hard for university when I could be at the bars learning about a whole new world?” Jisung ponders.

“Beats me. You seem like a workaholic. But that’s why I’m here, to teach you to loosen up,” Minho says, separating the red darts from the blue and handing a stack to Jisung. “And to play darts.”

“I want the red ones,” Jisung pouts, frowning at the blue pile in his hands.

“Oh yeah?” Minho asks with a smirk.

“Please. It’s my favorite color,” Jisung mumbles sadly. Minho offers them out to Jisung and swipes them away as soon as he reaches, holding them slightly above his head.

“What do I get in return?”

Jisung looks around the area. The dart area is tucked away in its own little corner, presumably to keep the game contained, and the bar _is_ pretty empty. “The satisfaction of seeing me smile,” he says, reaching up and standing on his tiptoes to grab them. Minho holds them all the way up, and Jisung is just out of reach.

“I do like your smile. But that’s not quite enough,” Minho grins.

“Fine,” Jisung says, reaching up again. He’s close enough to Minho that it’s easy to lean in and slot their lips together, kiss him just enough that he’s more interested in bringing his hand down to wrap around Jisungs neck than keep it up in the air. Jisung takes advantage, prying his hand open and grabbing the darts before he pulls away.

“Oh no, I’ve been distracted,” Minho deadpans, pressing another quick kiss to Jisung’s lips. “I guess you win.”

“I win,” Jisung smiles proudly, shoving the blue darts into Minho’s hand.

“That wasn’t really what I was asking for, but I admit defeat. I would have settled for a beer. I’ll never forget this loss. I am humbled in your presence,” Minho says, holding his head down as a sign of respect. “But I’m pretty sure you’re about to lose too. Let’s play darts.”

He does lose. Badly. Minho tries to show him just the right angle to toss the darts at, tries to help show how much strength to put into it and where to aim, but victory seems to slip through his fingers as the darts are tossed out in sloppy lobs. His throws are getting slightly more accurate as he goes, but Minho’s points are already rapidly decreasing and he’s not quite sure how to catch up.

“Ooh, that was good!” Minho cheers when Jisung hits an inner ring.

“Thank you,” Jisung mutters under his breath. He’s trying not to take the game too seriously, but it’s not quite good enough. Minho tosses another dart and pumps a fist in victory when it lands on the inner ring of 19. He’s already only got 146 points to go. He smiles at Jisung, probably looking for validation, but Jisung can only offer a weak grin back. “Nicely done.”

Minho seems to recognize the distaste in his expression instantly, because he puts his darts down and sidles up to Jisung, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You ok?” he asks, smiling softly.

“I’m good, I’m just bad at this. I didn’t think I’d be so bad at this,” Jisung mumbles. Minho looks around before pressing a sweet kiss to Jisung’s jaw. If it was anyone else, he might have pulled away, but there’s not enough people here to care and he’s getting a little too weak to resist Minho’s pull. 

“Are you a little bit of a sore loser?” Minho asks, laughing when Jisung tenses up from being called out.

“I may have been told that in the past.”

“Well I think,” another little peck to his cheek, “you’re doing great. It’s your first time playing. Nobody expects you to break records.”

“I like being good at things, though,” Jisung says, craning his head back a little to look Minho in the eye. “Doing well is a hell of a lot more fun.”

“We don’t have to keep playing if you’re not having fun. We can just sit and talk.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. But if you do keep playing-” Minho pauses, a contemplative expression coming across his face.

“What? If we keep playing then what?”

“If we keep playing and you get a bullseye, your next drink is on me,” Minho finishes.

“Deal,” Jisung agrees quickly. Minho pulls away from him and picks his darts back up to pass them over. Jisung puts two of his down on the table, keeping one and aiming it, making a motion to throw before skipping up to the target and placing it firmly in the center of the board. “Bullseye.”

“Oh, Jisung, I thought I told you this but you’re meant to _throw_ the dart,” Minho says, an amused smirk taking over his face.

“Instructions were unclear. I got a bullseye,” he says, pointing at it proudly. “You owe me a drink.”

Minho looks at him fondly and holds his hands up in defeat. “Fine, fine, I’ll buy you your drink. Big baby.”

“Excuse me?”

“Cute baby. My big, cute baby,” Minho grins, ruffling Jisung’s hair before departing for the bar again.

_Very boyfriendy indeed._

Games fall to the backburner after that in favor of good old fashioned conversation. Despite his complete lack of knowledge in the field of pediatric care, Jisung is utterly charmed by every word about Minho’s day, every description of his kids and the way they behave. And when Minho details each of their favorite songs from Jisung’s album, a comprehensive list he’s actually written in the notes of his phone, Jisung wonders if his cheeks might hurt in the morning from so much smiling.

Smiling. And laughing. And swooning. And falling in altogether way too deep, feeling way too much, and ignoring every red flag that tells him there’s no way he will ever feel anything even remotely casual for a man like Lee Minho. That’s how Jisung spends his night.

* * *

“Do you have work in the morning?”

It’s two weeks later, the air is a little bit colder, and Jisung and Minho are leaving the same bar they’d been going to on the regular. A fast forming tradition, it would seem.

“I’m off,” Jisung replies, hand held firmly in Minho’s as they leave the bar after their second round of drinks and trek through brisk autumn air to the station. “I have classes in the afternoon, though. You?”

“I have work, but not until ten,” Minho says, squeezing a little tighter. “Can I escort you home?”

Jisung fakes contemplation for a moment before breaking into a smirk and nodding at Minho. “You may escort me home. But I think Seungmin is going to be there, so no funny business.”

“You’ve been busy every day I’m off. I’m dying for some funny business,” Minho mumbles into his ear. Jisung chuckles, trying to pass off the flush on his cheeks as remnants of the beers they’d had instead of excitement at the thought. It’s hard to disagree. Between their schedules they haven’t been able to fit in more than chaste kisses in the shadows of the bar and lingering touches in the station.

“I know. I’m sorry, my projects are all piling up and I’ve been writing new songs,” Jisung answers guiltily.

“Oh yeah? How are the songs that are out doing?”

“Actually, really good! My streams have almost doubled since last month. I don’t know what happened but it’s kind of insane.” They’ve made their way through the station and climb aboard a northbound train to Jisung’s apartment.

“That’s incredible, Jisungie. Congratulations,” Minho says, bringing their intertwined hands to his lips and pecking the back of Jisung’s hand. They find two seats side by side at the end of the car and make themselves comfortable, relishing in the privacy and shadows they can find.

“Hey, cool it.” Jisung tries to sound put off, but even he can hear the smile in his voice, and when Minho shoves their hands into his jacket pocket, his lips upturn with fondness.

“Sorry, sorry, just proud. Gotta make the most of the time I have with you before you’re a huge star.”

“I’ll make sure my assistant finds a way to pencil you in,” Jisung says, laughing when Minho makes an exaggerated smile.

Minho has never been to his place, and for some reason Jisung is a little bit nervous. He doesn’t really think they’ll do much, just a quick tour, maybe a little heavy petting before Minho has to leave for the night. That’s the plan, anyway. That’s what he keeps in mind as they exit the train and walk the three blocks over.

But when they open the door to the apartment, the first thing he notices is an extra pair of shoes. Very familiar shoes. _Why does he recognize those shoes?_

Seungmin always makes guests take their shoes off, which Jisung relays to Minho as he kicks his own to the floor. _Who’s here?_

“This way,” Jisung says in a hushed tone. Something in his gut is telling him to be quiet, and he trusts it. When he gets to the living room, he understands why.

There’s a form on their couch, or two forms, and from what Jisung can distinguish he sees:

Seungmin’s socked feet, up in the air, wrapped around someone’s hips.

A shirt tossed over the arm of the couch.

Someone’s back, hovering over his roommate, pinning him into the cushions.

Jisung knows that back. He’d know it clothed, but he absolutely knows that shirtless back; he’s scratched into it, clung to it, sucked hickeys into it.

“Oh my god! Changbin?!”

The bodies shoot up and turn to attention, faces red and chests heaving. It’s Changbin alright, and now Jisung can see that Seungmin is half naked too.

“Jisung! I didn’t- uh, I didn’t think you were coming home so early,” Seungmin says, clearly scrambling to come back down to earth and out of whatever haze they’d been caught up in.

“Right. Here I am.”

Changbin looks conflicted. Maybe a little guilty, maybe just unsure what to say. Jisung doesn’t stick around to find out. He grabs Minho’s elbow and pulls him back to where they came from, grabbing both their shoes and darting out of the apartment before anyone can protest.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Jisung asks, pausing halfway down the hall to hand Minho his shoes and start to put his own on. He’s not sure why he’s so shaken up, but that’s something he never, ever thought he would see.

“Uh, sure. But I have to leave at nine, so you’ll either have to head out early with me or lock up after when you leave,” Minho replies. “Are you ok?”

“I’m not sure.”

Minho is gracious enough to leave it at that for a while, and when he offers his hand out, Jisung hesitates before taking it. Is that who Seungmin’s been dating? _Changbin?_

It’s not like they’re a bad pairing, they always seemed to get along when their whole friend group hung out, but something about it makes Jisung feel kind of slimy. He spends the ride to Minho’s place in relative silence trying to figure out why that is.

“What’s going on in your head?”

Minho sits Jisung down at his kitchen island and pours two glasses of water, placing them in front of Jisung before grabbing the other chair.

“I’m confused,” Jisung says. “I don’t know.”

“Well I have no idea who those people were, so maybe you can explain it to me? That could help,” Minho asks.

Jisung takes a big sip of water and tries to clear his mind. “Yeah. My roommate was the one on the bottom, Seungmin. My friend Changbin was on top of him.”

“And you didn’t know they were together?”

“I knew Seungmin was seeing someone, but he’s been tight-lipped about who. Said he wanted to make sure it was going well before telling anyone.” Jisung replies. He’s been pestering his roommate for weeks trying to get a name. Now he knows why he’d been so adamant against sharing.

“Ok, and your friend Changbin. You don’t like him? Or you don’t trust him? Why is it bad that it’s him specifically?”

“No, it’s not that. Changbin’s a great guy, he’ll be really good to Seungmin,” Jisung sighs. That much is true, at least. “It’s just weird.”

“Weird why?” Minho asks. This is uncomfortable. Jisung hasn’t told Minho _who_ his friends with benefits was. He also hasn’t told him he ended it.

“So remember when I said I had some sort of friends with benefits situation?” Jisung asks cautiously. Minho looks a little off put for a second before correcting himself and nodding. “Changbin.”

“Oh, but-” Minho seems to contemplate something for a moment before continuing his sentence. “Why would Seungmin agree to date Changbin if he’s hooking up with his roommate? Isn’t that weird?” he asks.

“We actually haven’t been hooking up lately,” Jisung admits. He can’t look Minho in the eyes when he says it, so he stares into his water instead. The way it sounds- _I stopped sleeping with other people after I met you_ \- it’s too committal. Desperate. Clingy. Something that might get Minho’s hopes up when Jisung still really isn’t emotionally ready.

“When did that stop?” Minho asks, voice steady. Jisung starts to lift his glass again but Minho catches his wrist mid-air, confiscating the drink and forcing Jisung to look at him. “Hmm?”

“Um, a little over a month ago.”

“So the whole time we’ve been meeting up,” Minho starts, looking positively pleased, “I’ve been thinking you’re kissing someone else, and sleeping with someone else, but it’s really just been me?”

“Oh, you know what, you’re right. That’s quite a coincidence how those things lined up, I didn’t notice that,” Jisung tries. It sounds stupid even to him.

“Yeah, funny how things work out, isn’t it,” Minho agrees sarcastically. “This is interesting news. I feel very powerful. The cute boy from the subway, all to myself. My own Han Jisung,” he says, stroking his chin.

“Wait, ok, yes I stopped seeing other people. But I don’t want that to lead you on. I’m still not ready to commit myself right now, it’s not time yet. Or, more like I don’t have time yet. I have more to get done on my own before I can go all in as part of a couple.” Jisung is trying his hardest to be clear without hurting Minho’s feelings.

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to be my boyfriend or anything,” Minho says, holding his hands up in surrender. _Oh. Guess he’s not as fragile as Jisung was worried about._ “I mean, I really like you, don’t get me wrong, but I know how to listen. You said you’re not ready, you’re not ready. I get that.”

“Oh. Ok, well that’s good. Are you- um. What about when I am?”

Minho’s smile gets bigger, smugger. “Han Jisung,” he begins, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Jisung’s lips mid-sentence. “Are you asking me to wait for you?”

Jisung doesn’t have to think about it. If the offer is on the table, then the answer is obviously yes. Yes, yes, a million times yes. When is he ever going to find another Lee Minho? With smiling eyes and a perfect nose (absolutely perfect, with a tiny little freckle Jisung finds himself wanting to kiss more often that not) and a strange sense of humor that seems to match Jisung’s perfectly. When is he going to find someone else who lets him be so unabashedly… himself? WIthout getting annoyed with his sometimes too loud voice, or thinking he’s too flaky, or growing impatient with his lack of free time. It has to be Minho. Nobody else has ever suited him quite so very much. “Would you really do that?”

“I don’t know, you have to ask,” Minho teases.

“Minho, will you wait for me? Will you take a chance to wait for me until I can give you the time needed to give us a fair shot?”

“Yes I will,” Minho answers quickly.

“Oh. Ok,” Jisung says, wrapping his mind around everything that’s just gone down. “Ok, that’s great. So you’ll give me the time to make a name for myself? Until my life is more stable? You’d really do that for me?”

“As long as you think there’s a reason to.”

“God,” Jisung sighs, standing up from his stool and spinning Minho to face him closer. He puts a hand on either side of Minho’s neck and leans in for a kiss, mumbling into his lips, “You’re far too good for me.”

“Maybe,” Minho says as he smiles into the kiss, “or maybe I’m just an idiot, putting my life on hold for a cute, tortured artist. Are you going to make me look like an idiot?”

“I’m going to try really hard not to.” They stay like that for a while, Minho sat on his stool with Jisung leaning between his legs, kissing freely for the first time in weeks, letting themselves get caught up in each other. And then Minho stands, guides Jisung across the studio and behind the privacy screen without ever parting their lips, lays him onto the bed before finally detaching himself to press kisses into his neck and whisper niceties into his ear.

“Can I say something selfish?” Minho asks while pulling Jisung’s shirt up and over his head. His fingers trail up Jisung’s torso and leave him shivering in their wake, a feeling he can’t quite name taking over.

“Yeah, anything,” Jisung responds, voice breathy and head hazy.

“I’m so fucking glad I don’t have to share you,” Minho mutters. Now his hands are roaming down, down, into Jisung’s waistband, down his thighs as he’s stripped completely bare. “I never liked the idea of you and some other person messing around.”

 _Really?_ “You never-” Jisung tries his damndest to get words out, but it’s hard to make any sound that isn’t a moan of pleasure when Minho has him at the mercy of his lips. “You never said that.”

He pulls off for a moment to respond, though Jisung kind of wishes he wouldn’t. “We barely knew each other, that absolutely would have scared you off.” Jisung nods in agreement but stops talking, hoping Minho will get the hint. He wants _more._ He _needs_ more.

“Minho, wait,” Jisung finally gains words, threading his fingers into Minho’s hair and tugging up a little to signal he needs a break. “I don’t want to- I want more. Everything. Can we do more?” Jisung asks. As much as Minho’s mouth feels like heaven, it’s not enough to satisfy him right now.

“Yeah, we can,” Minho responds after pulling away. He sits up on his knees and peels his shirt off, crawling up to Jisung to bring him into another heated kiss. Jisung lets his hand graze down Minho’s torso, then snaps at his waistband to let him know it’s time to take those off too. He yanks them off as quickly as he can without breaking the kiss, which makes it a little clumsy and garners a few giggles, but when Minho is fully undressed the laughing stops. “Reach into the top drawer for me, there should be lube and condoms.”

Jisung does as requested, tries his best to open the box (it doesn’t slip over Jisung’s head that it seems brand new) but struggles a bit with Minho mouthing over his neck, groaning in frustration before finally succeeding. Minho taps Jisung’s hip and gestures for him to flip over, hips raised and ass out. He tries to clear his mind, not think of the difference between the way Minho and Changbin’s touches feel from each other, how Minho’s fingers feel like fire against his skin and Changbin’s never did, how Minho feels like a lover and his fuckbuddy never even came close. Minho works quickly, but not painfully, just enough to show how desperate he is for this too. One finger, two, three, a nice stretch, then the ripping of a condom.

“Wait!”

Jisung is surprised to hear his own voice, has to collect himself to think about why he’d stopped Minho just as he was about to get what he wanted.

“Wait,” Jisung repeats. “I don’t want to be looking down.”

“You want to look at me?” Minho asks. Jisung collapses onto the bed and turns so he’s laying on his back, now able to see Minho clearly. He looks incredible, neck and chest flush with excitement, eyes glinting with anticipation. Yeah, he doesn’t want to miss this view.

“Yeah.”

“Ok, then look at me,” he says with a smile, grabbing Jisung’s knees and spreading them open for access. Jisung does look, for a moment, before he gets overwhelmed and leans his head back on the pillows, closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of Minho pressing into him. He lets himself enjoy the steady pace, doesn’t restrain his little sounds of contentment and one of surprise when he feels something looming over him.

Jisung opens his eyes to see Minho, hovering just an inch above his face and looking like he’s got the whole world in his grasp. He props himself up on his elbows and leans up to meet Minho in a kiss, though there’s not much rhyme or reason to it with everything else going on. _God, kissing while having sex is a whole level of intimate he forgot about._

Jisung wraps his legs around Minho’s waist to pull their hips as close as possible, to feel more than he already can, to enjoy this moment to the fullest. He still can’t quite understand why Minho likes him this much, but it shows, and damn does it feel good.

That’s how things end, with Jisung keeping a hooded gaze on Minho as he lets him set his body ablaze. The fire subsides into a dull warmth when Minho collapses onto Jisung’s chest, making a little sound of content when Jisung threads his fingers into his hair and scratches lightly.

“God, you’re really…” Minho starts to say, trailing off at the end. He’s heaving for breath, as is Jisung, but the loss of words seems more emotional than physical.

“Hmm?”

“You’re just really something.”

Jisung continues scratching at Minho’s scalp, condensing his fingers all into one spot and spreading them out as far as his hand can stretch. Minho’s hair is silky and soft, a little damp from sweat but addicting to touch. “You too.”

He can’t say much more than that, winded from activity and hazy from the afterglow, but he hopes Minho knows what he means. It feels like he does, because after they clean up and shower one by one, settling in is easy. In the past, with anyone else, Jisung would have been cautious of this domesticity. He would have been terrified that Minho had saved the toothbrush Jisung opened last time, maybe tried to distance himself a little bit as he slept. But it’s too late with Minho, and as much as he hadn’t expected it, he’s in this. So he brushes his teeth, borrows Minho’s skincare, dons the same pajamas from before, and pulls Minho close as they let sleep take over. And once again, he wakes up with an arm wrapped around Minho’s waist , a leg hitched over his hips, his nose buried in Minho’s neck.

Jisung isn’t entirely sure _why_ he’s awake until he starts to hear sounds and lets his eyes drift open.

“Jisung. Sungie. Babe, wake up.”

 _Babe._ Babe sounds nice. Early morning Jisung likes the sound of babe. He shows it by hugging Minho tightly, then rolling until he’s laying on top of the other man and giving him a smooch on the forehead. “I’m up. What time is it?”

“It’s only eight, but I gotta leave in an hour. You wanna head out with me or you wanna sleep a little longer and lock up after?” Minho asks.

“I’ll head out with you,” Jisung says, stifling a yawn. “You’d let me be here alone?”

“Yeah, of course. What are you gonna do?” Minho asks.

“Eat all your food. I’m hungry,” Jisung replies jokingly, bending down to nip at Minho’s neck.

“No, please, stop,” Minho deadpans, putting a finger beneath Jisung’s chin and moving his head up. Jisung can’t help but smile when Minho presses their lips together. He wipes the smile away by interlocking them, deepening the kiss as he slots a knee between Minho’s legs and runs a hand up his arm. “Mmm… wait, I don’t have time for this, you’re killing me.”

“Yes you do,” Jisung whispers, kissing down his neck and slipping a hand into his pants. It’s still a little shocking to know that Minho sleeps commando, but he’ll get used to it eventually. It works out well, because waking up with Minho apparently means waking up horny, and things move swiftly when Jisung rolls so they’re laying side by side, motioning Minho to lay face to face with him and working them both in his hands. Kissing turns to heavy breathing,forehead to forehead and nose to nose, and if Jisung was half asleep before he’s fully alert now. They spill into Jisung’s hands at the same time, and he cleans up with a tissue as Minho lays on his back catching his breath.

“You’re incorrigible,” Minho says when he can, though Jisung can see him smiling.

“And you’re hot. What did you expect, calling me ‘babe’ with that morning voice?”

“I’m seriously going to be late, that was the time I use for breakfast,” Minho groans, looking at his clock and scrambling out of bed. _Well now Jisung feels bad._

“I’ll make you something while you get dressed,” Jisung offers politely.

“You cook?”

“Not really, but if you have eggs and toast I can make some magic.”

“I do have eggs and toast. And coffee?” Minho asks hopefully.

“Ok, coffee too, you’ve got it. So go get ready,” Jisung whines, pulling Minho off the bed and pecking him on the lips before moving to the kitchen area. He finds the eggs and bread pretty easily and stares at them for a moment, contemplating if he’s really going to do what’s in his head. Shrugging off any potential embarrassment, Jisung reaches for a cup and starts heating up some butter on a pan. He takes the cup and places it open-side down on the bread, cutting out a perfect circle before placing both pieces on the skillet. Just like his mother taught him, Jisung expertly cracks an egg in the middle and waits for things to crisp before flipping it over, humming a little tune as he cooks his dish. The coffee machine whirrs to life as the click of a button, and Jisung pulls out two mugs before taking Minho’s meal off the pan and starting one for himself. All the while he can hear Minho in the background, washing his face and brushing his teeth before he starts to rummage through his drawers.

“Smells good,” he calls out from behind the screen.

“Looks good too,” Jisung confirms. “Ready when you are.”

Minho comes out in his scrubs with a navy turtleneck shirt underneath, peering over Jisung’s shoulder.

“Your food is done, the coffee should be any minute,” Jisung says, giggling when Minho plants a kiss on his neck. “Go eat.”

“But yours is still cooking. It’s rude to eat alone,” Minho responds, wrapping his arms around Jisung’s waist. “I can’t believe you made me a toad in the hole.”

“I made you a what now?” Jisung asks, flipping his toast over.

“A toad in the hole,” Minho repeats. The coffee maker dings and he detached himself from Jisung, pouring the two mugs full and preparing his own with a little bit of sugar.

“I have no idea what that means,” Jisung says. He looks up at Minho, who gestures to the sugar and his coffee questioningly. “Cream and sugar, please.”

Minho opens the fridge and stares for a moment before turning back to Jisung. “I don’t have creamer.”

“Oh. That’s fine, I guess,” Jisung replies. His toast and eggs are now a perfect crispness, so he takes them off the stove and plates them before sitting next to Minho at the island. He takes a sip of coffee and shudders, trying to keep his look of distaste to a minumum as he swallows the bitter liquid down. There’s not much Jisung likes less than black coffee, and this is barely any better.

“I’m sorry,” Minho says guiltily. Jisung shakes his head and smiles, trying to look more positive.

“No, it’s fine.You don’t use creamer, why would you have any?

“And I ran out of milk two days ago, so I really am useless.”

Jisung shakes his head again, taking another big gulp and making a refreshing sound when he swallows it down. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Now what the fuck is a toad in the hole?”

“An egg cooked in the middle of a hollowed out slice of bread. This,” Minho says, gesturing at the dish before taking a bite.

“This is called eggs in a basket,” Jisung finishes for him. “My mother makes the most excellent eggs in a basket on this earth, I guarantee you, this has nothing to do with amphibians.”

“Toads are reptiles. And this is delicious.”

“No, they really aren’t,” Jisung says with a laugh. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Even if you don’t know what it’s called.”

“I like it,” Minho repeats.This is so good. The food, the morning, the company. It’s all so fucking good.

“Well, I like you.”

 _Now where did that come from?_ The tiny Jisung inside his head had probably tried to make that sound like a joke, giving it a teasing tone and a sing-songy rhythm, but spilling from his lips it sounds far too raw and honest for where their relationship is at. Where he himself had drawn the line.

Jisung expects Minho to tease him, to poke fun at the sudden confession that even he himself hadn’t expected. Instead Minho just stares at him, and Jisung stares back, watching as a flush crawls from the tips of Minho’s ears to his cheeks. “Huh?”

“What?” Jisung asks back, playing dumb. He takes another bite of his meal, bursting the egg yolk so it spreads around the bread and he can dip the extra bit into it.

“Thanks,” Minho mutters under his breath. “I mean, I knew that, or at least I think I did, but that was very straightforward. I like you too. But you know that.”

“Well. I’m glad we’re on the same page, then.” Jisung finishes up the last couple bites of his food and gulps down more coffee before standing up. “I’m gonna, uh, brush my teeth. Wash my face. Get ready to head out. Are you ok on time?”

“Yeah, we’re good. I don’t have to leave for fifteen minutes.”

“Ok. I’ll be out in a bit.”

When it comes to big events in Jisung’s life, he doesn’t like to cower and hide. He’d rather face them head on and find a solution. But this kind of thing? Letting out an embarrassingly honest confession when he hadn’t intended to? This is a textbook ‘hide in a bathroom until the painful awkwardness subsides’ event. So he grabs his clothes and scurries into the bathroom, washes his face, brushes his teeth (with _his_ toothbrush. Even people who are actually dating surely don’t have their own toothbrush by sleepover number two, right?), and changes. And now he’s still got 12 minutes left. Jisung sighs and looks around for somewhere to kill time, eventually folding the toilet seat down and taking a seat. Minho’s apartment is a little lackluster when it comes to bathroom decor, so he grabs a bottle of shampoo and inspects the label. _For luscious, shiny locks. Vanilla Hibiscus scent. Lather, rinse, repeat._ At least Minho doesn’t buy into that five in one mens product marketing.

He’s interrupted a few minutes later by a knock on the door.

“Just a minute!” Jisung calls out, cursing the fact that his bluff has been called. He expects to have another moment to collect himself, but instead the door creaks open.

“Hey, are you not feeling- wait. You’re fully clothed. What are you doing in here?” Minho asks, open the door all the way when he sees Jisung is fully clothed and not in fact using the toilet for anything more than a seat.

“I’m- I’m hiding,” Jisung admits, putting down the shampoo bottle and standing up. “But what if I wasn’t decent? What if I was mid… you know.”

“Hiding because?” Minho ignores the stupid question. He’s seen Jisung indecent, they both know he’s just deflecting.

“I don’t know,” Jisung mumbles. A look of realization comes across Minho’s face, and he steps forward to cup Jisung’s face in his hands.

“Hey,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Jisung’s forehead. “You nervous? About seeing your roommate?”

Jisung has to physically hold himself back from jerking in surprise. _Wrong_. Minho is so sweet, and so kind, but in this situation he is so incredibly wrong. But it works to Jisung’s favor. “Yeah,” he says quietly, loosely holding Minho’s hips in his hands as he’s pulled a little closer. He’d kind of let the Seungmin and Changbin situation slip his mind, probably erased it subconsciously in favor of letting himself be filled with Minho’s presence, but now that it’s come up he actually is nervous. “I have no idea what to say to him.”

“Do you need to say anything special? You could just congratulate them.”

“Yeah, but I’m confused. Seungmin has had this mystery crush, some man he likes but won’t ever reference in detail, for an eternity. Like, so _so_ long. But now he’s with Changbin? Does that mean the crush was on Changbin?” Jisung asks. “Was I sleeping with one of my best friends crush, giving him the details and walking around with hickeys and bite marks without even knowing?”

“If he wouldn’t tell you their name, it’s not your fault,” Minho says softly. _Damnit._ He hadn’t been upset about this before, but he sure is now.

“I think I might be a terrible friend. I’m a terrible person.” _Shit._

“Babe, look at me,” Minho whispers. Now that he’s awake, Jisung feels the pet name in his bones. It’s overwhelming how much effect everything Minho does has on him. He looks up into deep brown eyes, soft and full of understanding. “You’re neither. You know that.”

“I was so focused on myself and my job and Changbin was so convenient for me that I didn’t even notice it was upsetting Seungmin for a reason. I have no idea how to talk to him knowing that.”

Minho looks a little unsure what to say about that, and Jisung can tell he’s done it again; what a lovely morning they’d had, only to be brought down by his pessimism. “Are you- Do you need to stay here another night?” Minho asks softly. He looks nervous, and whether it’s because he’s asking out of obligation or he’s scared Jisung will run away is hard to tell. He doesn’t know for sure, but he knows his only answer.

“No.” Jisung shakes his head adamantly, though his grip on Minho remains. “I can’t put you out like that, and I can’t run away from my roommate.” _And I can’t rely on you to solve my problems and be my support when I haven’t offered the same_. “You must be running late.”

Minho stops Jisung in his tracks when he tries to break away, giving one last sentiment. “He’s your friend, just try to let him explain himself before you decide everything on your own.”

Jisung looks at Minho, at lovely Minho who fancies him so much and always says the right thing, and the nerves are gone again for a moment and he’s smitten. He peels Minho’s hands from his face and reverses the position, cupping Minho’s jaw and kissing him softly. “Thank you. You’re right. Let’s go.”

* * *

Seungmin isn’t there when Jisung gets home. When he gets back from classes, still no dice. In stark contrast to last night, Jisung finds himself eating dinner alone, watching tv alone, washing up alone. The apartment feels far too cold and empty.

Jisung hadn’t tried to text him, it felt like a conversation that should take place in person, especially with his roommate. Changbin... he doesn’t even know how to approach Changbin. But now Jisung is worried, because even if Seungmin is safe with his… boyfriend? Even if he’s safe with Changbin, he’s concerned that too much distance will cause irreparable damage between them.

 **Jisung** : _Are you coming home tonight_

 **Seungmin** : _Should I?_

At least Seungmin is answering right away, he can’t be _too_ turned off by what happened

 **Jisung** : _I was hoping to see you_

 **Seungmin** : _I’m with Changbin_

_Damn._

**Seungmin** : _But he’s gonna drive me. I’ll be there in 20._

 **Jisung** : _ok_

Jisung paces around the apartment for a while, unsure what to do with himself. This shouldn’t be so awkward, but he’s not sure what to expect. Walking around gets boring within a matter of minutes, so he tries to entertain himself by flopping onto the couch and scrolling through his phone. But that only makes him want to text someone for help on what to say, and his first thought goes to Minho. And he can’t do that either. Jisung sighs and puts it away, getting up to make some tea for himself and Seungmin. A peace offering of sorts.

It works out that just as the tea is done steeping, Seungmin walks through the door. Jisung looks up, startled, breathing out a sigh of relief when his roommate is alone. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to Changbin, it just seems like something that should be done separately.

“I’m sorry-”

“I made tea-”

They speak at the same time, but Jisung’s pretty much said the only thing he can focus on in the moment. He hands Seungmin the warm cup, cheering up a little when he sees his roommate’s eyes light up at the scent of lemon and ginger.

“So…” Jisung tries to start the conversation, but has no clue how.

“I’m sorry you walked in on that. It was irresponsible,” Seungmin says, taking a seat next to Jisung at the kitchen island. He sips on his tea tentatively, grimacing shyly and finally looking Jisung in the eye.

“I’m sorry for everything else,” Jisung replies.

“Everything else? What do you mean?”

“For running away instead of asking what was going on,” Jisung explains. “And for flaunting that we were hooking up. And for not noticing you liked him. I should have known you liked him. He was the secret crush, right?”

Seungmin laughs at that, big and full and dorky. “Yeah, he was. But why would you have known that? Even he didn’t catch on until maybe two months ago.”

“But _I_ should have known. As your roommate, I should have noticed,” Jisung persists.

“No, you shouldn’t have. I made a big effort to keep it hidden. Stop saying that.”

Jisung shuts his mouth, though he’s still not convinced. Instead, he asks the true burning question on his mind: “So, you’re like, boyfriends?”

“No. I mean, not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

Jisung frowns into his cup. _Is everything about this situation always going to be so stiff and uncomfortable?_ “You don’t need my permission or whatever, you’re both grown men.”

“Really? You don’t mind? Think it’s weird?” Seungmin asks tentatively.

“Well, maybe it’s a little weird, right?”

“How so? In your words?”

“We’re like… eskimo brothers. That’s pretty intimate,” Jisung tries to explain. Seungmin looks unimpressed.

“Jisung, we wash our underwear together, that’s far more intimate. It’s not like we’re sleeping with him at the same time. I was worried you’d be mad for lying and betraying your trust, you’re just worried about where his dick has been?” he asks.

“I get why you didn’t tell me at first though. So yeah, I’m pretty much just worried about where his dick has been.”

“Well, just try to repress it and there’s no issue, right?”

“I guess. I mean, congratulations, he’s great in… in general.” _In bed_ he stops himself from saying.

“Say it. Whatever you need to say. Just get it all out.”

“He’s a good lay! I’m glad you’re getting laid, you could use it sometimes. He’s got a nice ass, I hope you appreciate it. And he likes it when you-” Jisung says, springing on the opportunity.

“Never mind, I’ve heard enough. Now please focus on your own man’s ass and your own getting laid,” Seungmin says, smacking him on the shoulder. “That was him last night, right? I didn’t see him well, but he sure does seem out of your league.”

“He is. So incredibly out of my league it’s a little bit absurd,” Jisung admits. He’s not one to be self deprecating for fun, at least not out loud, so it pains him a little that that’s the first thing to come to mind. But it’s true.

“Woah,” Seungmin replies, jaw just ever so slightly slack. “I didn’t think you’d agree with me. Are you ok?”

“I don’t know, actually.”

“What, are you falling for him or something? Is Han Jisung actually going to get serious about a guy for once?” Seungmin teases.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not falling for him. I’ve only known him a few months,” Jisung says, mostly to Seungmin but maybe a little bit to himself. Unfortunately, his roommate can read him like a book, maybe due to his wavering tone or perhaps from the flush he can feel has crawled onto his neck.

“But? Something happened, right? You look like something happened to you. Something good.”

“I mean, we were drinking last night. And I was freaked out,” Jisung says quietly. “I was maybe a little too freaked out to maintain my normal level of self control.” It’s a half-truth, he’d been mostly sober by the time they got to Minho’s, but he definitely was freaked out.

“And what did you do?” Seungmin asks, grin wide and eyes sparkling. He has way too much fun with this kind of thing, they’ve always thrived on calling each other out. Their own special form of friendship.

“We settled upon an agreement. That he’d wait for me. Until I have time for an actual relationship,” Jisung says, trying to pass it off as a professional, mutual discussion.

Seungmin stares at him suspiciously for an uncomfortable moment before speaking, and Jisung finds himself clenching onto his mug in anticipation. What would an outsider make of this? “So you two have… what? Penciled in a relationship? How is what you’re doing right now any different from dating?”

“If I get too busy we’re not allowed to get butthurt about it. No obligations,” Jisung says. At least that’s how it works in his head.

“Just because you’re not allowed to _voice_ that you’re butthurt doesn’t mean you won’t _feel_ butthurt. You’ll both just be faking it.”

Jisung thinks about that, really truly considers if what he’s doing is right. But Minho is blunt, when he’s had questions before he’s usually brought them up. _Aside from the fuckbuddy thing._ “I think it’s ok. We’re mature adults, I’m sure we can talk it out.”

Seungmin snorts, choking on his tea as he laughs at the statement. “Yeah, I bet you can. You should really let yourself have some fun, Sungie. Date a hot guy, come hang out with your friends. This is our last year of college.”

“Which is why I can’t yet. As soon as I get my future settled, I will. I promise.” Jisung means it. He wants to have fun just as much as the rest of them, just not quite yet.

“Uh-huh.”

“Hey, I have to get ready for classes. I’m probably going to the studio after, so I’ll be back late,” Jisung says, trying to keep the topic of conversation from getting _too_ heavy. _Maybe that wasn’t the best excuse to lead with, though._

“Sure. Text me when you’re coming back this time,” Seungmin says cheekily.

“How about you just put a sock on the door?”

His roommate scoffs as they both stand up and head to their separate spaces, and though the air is cleared between them Jisung has to work to fight the hazy feeling in his mind.

* * *

As the days get colder and midterms draw closer, Jisung finds himself seeking solace in plush hoodies and sterile studios. He’s holed up working more often than not, and the strings on his guitar are a little worse for wear with how much he’s been playing. Even the calluses on his fingers are getting thicker, or at least Minho had said so huddled up in bed one night, hands joined and raised to the sky.

“ _It doesn’t even feel like skin. It’s like leather. Or like you glued little pebbles to your fingertips._ ”

“ _Is that bad?_ ”

“ _No, it’s interesting. I like your hands. Doctor hands are all so sterile and dainty, yours have art behind them.”_

He has a lot to write about.

Jisung has grown a bit of buzz online lately. His songs are relatable and go with the season well; tales of dreary days and dreams of more. That’s what filled his last album, at least. The words coming out lately are a bit more hopeful, sparked with whimsy and something more. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. He just hopes his listeners appreciate the change, now that they’re growing by the day. That’s what pulls him through such late nights alone; people who want to hear his words and ideas he’d never entertained until now begging to be let out.

 **Minho:** _What are you doing tonight?_

Jisung stares at the message on his phone after ignoring it unintentionally for a few hours. Minho had texted him, most likely during his lunch break, but he’d fallen into his process and zoned out of the real world for a bit.

 **Jisung** : _Hey. I’m in a studio at school, didn’t hear my phone. Probably gonna be here a few more hours._

 **Minho:** _I figured._

 **Minho:** _Have you eaten yet?_

 **Jisung:** _No I’ll just eat when I get home. Brought a coffee with me._

 **Minho:** _Not healthy._

 **Jisung:** _Sorry doc_

 **Jisung:** _nurse*_

 **Minho:** _It’s been three months, I know you’re doing this on purpose._

 **Jisung:** _You can’t prove that_

He plays with his phone a little bit longer, half waiting for another message and half checking social media. When nothing else comes, Jisung takes it as a sign to get back to his work.

Until it buzzes again.

 **Minho:** _Where are the studios?_

 **Jisung:** _???_

 **Minho:** _I’m in the building we dropped your stuff off at before but idk where the studios are._

 **Jisung:** _in the basement_

 **Jisung:** _But why are you here??_

 **Minho:** _Studio number?_

 **Jisung:** _4_

Jisung stands up and pokes his head out of the room, a little disoriented from the brighter hallway lights and the fact that Minho is in his school’s music building.

“How did you get in here?” he asks, amused when he sees Minho’s face turn from confusion to a smile at the sight of him.

“Good to see you too.”

Jisung opens the door and lets him in, gesturing to the room. “Welcome to my home away from home. What brings you here?”

“I thought my apartment was your home away from home,” Minho says, leaning in for a quick kiss on the cheek. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Gifts?”

Minho holds up a brown paper bag and swings it in front of Jisung’s face. It smells good, familiar… “Oh my god, McDonald’s?”

“A cheeseburger with fries and a small strawberry milkshake, to be exact. I didn’t want to wait for anything healthier, but at least you’ll eat.”

“Holy shit, you’re my hero,” Jisung says, clutching his stomach with one hand and taking the bag with the other. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he had food right in front of it. “Thank you so much.” He opens the bag and inspects it for a second before placing it on the table. He leans up to Minho and gives a kiss of his own, a chaste connecting of their lips to show his gratitude. “I didn’t even realize it was time for you to get off. I’ve been here a while,” Jisung says, patting Minho on the butt and rubbing the fabric of his scrubs between two fingers.

“Just got off. So this is where you’ve been? Decor could use some work,” Minho says, looking around. “I really think my apartment is nicer.”

“I think so too, but your apartment usually has distractions in it. Like you,” Jisung says, taking a seat and offering the other chair to Minho. There are actually two meals in the bag, so he hands the other over and starts working on his own. He watches as Minho removes the lid from his shake, slurps up the whipped cream, dip a french fry into it, and tosses it into his mouth. And then does it again, and again. He must feel the staring, because after a few fries he dips one into his shake and holds it out towards Jisung. “It’s good.”

“Milkshakes aren’t dipping sauce,” Jisung says, shooing it away. Minho just holds the fry closer, to the point where all Jisung can smell is grease and salt and he can feel the chill of the shake next to his lips. “Fine.”

“Well?” Minho asks, eyes excited as Jisung chews. It’s not like he hasn’t tried this before, it’s just been a long time. Like, since he was a toddler long time.

“It’s actually pretty good. I like it with the vanilla,” Jisung admits. “I don’t think it would be as good with strawberry.”

“Only one way to find out,” Minho says, smiling evilly. Jisung shrugs and uncaps his own shake, digging into his fries and giving it a shot. He chews thoughtfully and makes a decision.

“The vanilla is better, but it’s honestly still good.”

“I’m brilliant, right?”

Jisung laughs and spins to Minho, rolling their chairs close so their knees knock together. “You’re brilliant, doc.”

It’s nice having Minho in his space for once. So far they’d been to Minho’s regular bar, Minho’s apartment, Minho’s favorite cafe. This isn’t as exciting as any of those places, but it’s his. “So this is where you’ve been running off to? Blowing me off for this shabby studio?” he asks.

“Please, I saw you yesterday,” Jisung says with a laugh.

“Only for a few minutes at the station.”

Jisung gives his widest eyed look, feigning innocence in the matter. “I spent the night last week though. I’ve got a lot of projects and a lot of loyal listeners, what can I say?”

“I’m your loyal listener too,” Minho says, shifting so both knees surround Jisung’s from the outside and squeezing a little. “Shouldn’t you be nice to me? I’d venture to call myself your biggest fan.”

“And I would argue that I treat you much better than my other fans,” Jisung says quietly, leaning in for another short kiss. It’s sweet and salty like the junk food they’re sharing, leaving Jisung licking his lips when they pull away. “But I really have to get some stuff done. This is for classes.” Jisung hesitates a bit before saying the next thing that comes to mind, but honestly, he wants some time together too. “But if you wanted to hang out here… I can’t guarantee it’ll be very entertaining but you can stay if you’d like.”

“Ooh, do I get to listen to your new songs?”

Jisung thinks about the songs filling his notebooks and laptop right now, how many of them are not-so-subtly influenced by the man in front of him. How they might be a bit too vulnerable for their current situation. “You can listen to a few.”

“And when you’re finished for the night, may I steal you away to my apartment?”

“You may.”

“Then I’ll make myself comfortable,” he says, stripping off his coat and laying it on the back of his chair. They exchange casual conversations about their days (Jisung was actually slammed at work with everyone prepping for exams, one of Minho’s favorite patients was due to be discharged soon), finish eating, and when Jisung returns to work Minho pulls a book from his bag and starts reading. Jisung unplugs his headphones at Minho’s request, letting him listen in on the process as he tries to craft something to meet his school assignment requirements. It’s a soft and gentle tune, and when he looks to his companion his face is completely at ease.

“Do you want to hear something else? Something complete?” Jisung asks after a while. He’s sick of this assignment for the time being, and a part of him wants to play something more meaningful to his companion.

“A spoiler?”

“Something like that,” Jisung confirms with a laugh.

“Of course. I’m all ears,” Minho says. His eyes are curious, his grin heartwarming, and Jisung barely even hesitates before clicking play on one of his new songs. It’s not one of the explicitly romantic ones (of which there are more than he cares to admit), but it’s a song that he hopes brings warmth to it’s listener. Judging by Minho’s expression, it seems to be working.

Jisung stares at him, inspecting his face for any other reaction he may be able to perceive, but it’s hard to tell what’s going on beneath the smile.

“It’s very wholesome,” Minho says when the song finishes, sounding somewhere between surprised and satisfied.

“In a good way? Or a cheesy, nobody wants to hear about how happy you are way?”

“In a good way. It’s not over the top, it’s just like. ‘Hey, things are gonna be ok.’ You know?”

“I do know. So you like it?”

“Babe,” Minho says, leaning in for a peck on the lips. “I love it. And everyone else is going to love it too. Because it’s brilliant.”

“Ok. Well that’s great,” Jisung sighs, a weight lifting off his chest. “Ok. Should we go home?”

“Home?” Minho asks, eyebrows raised.

“Your place?

“You’re done with your work?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m all out of brain power. I think it’s time to go,” Jisung says, looking around at the studio. The air has gotten stale with the smell of fast food, and he’s just now realizing how chilly air has gotten.He packs starts packing up his things with Minho’s help, clutching onto his arm as they leave the studio. “I have work in the morning.”

“Gonna wake up early to go home and change?”

“No,” Jisung says as cheekily as he can. “Might need to borrow a shirt from you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Maybe a hoodie, too.”

Minho laughs and grabs Jisung’s hood, pulling it over his head and covering his eyes with it. “And what’s wrong with yours?”

“I can’t wear the same hoodie two days in a row, it’ll start a scandal. Everyone at work will wonder where I spent the night!”

“I’m sure they will, king of the campus that you are,” Minho teases back.”I have one for you.”

“Thanks, doc.”

It’s an easy night, a lazy one filled with amorous touches and silly stories and a warm shower shared between the two of them. Jisung falls asleep wrapped around Minho’s back and wakes up to the smell of coffee, delighted when Minho passes him a little carton of cream. It’s mostly full, only used once before, a grocery run made just for him.

He goes to work clad in a navy blue hoodie, a shirt from Minho’s high school and his jeans from the day before. Jisung can tell it hadn’t come straight from the dryer, because it smells of ivory soap and hibiscus. He spends the shift with the sleeves pulled over his hands and pressed to his nose, breathing Minho in.

* * *

“Have you ever considered doing an open mic?”

Jisung glances up from the shitty $1 beer he’s been staring into for the past minute to look at Felix questioningly. They’re at one of the college bars near campus, indulging in cheap beer and chicken wings, the whole squad in tow. Changbin and Seungmin are huddled up next to each other with Felix sitting awkwardly next to them (better him than Jisung), and Hyunjin and Jisung take up the other half of the booth.

“An open mic?” Jisung repeats. _Why would he need to do an open mic when he plays for people three times a week?_

“Or a coffee shop gig or something,” Hyunjin chimes in.

“I hadn’t really thought about it. If my system’s not broke, why fix it?”

“Because it’s cold. You always come back with your nose bright red and I’ve heard you complain about your fingers being too numb to play for the past two weeks,” Seungmin adds.

“Have you guys been talking about this behind my back?” Jisung asks, feeling a little ganged up on. He’s pretty certain his friends only have his best interest at heart, but they certainly seem to be in cahoots.

“Only because you’ve got the sniffles,” Felix says, handing him a tissue. Jisung accepts it and wipes at his nose. He’d thought he’d been hiding it well.

“I’m fine. Minho said it’s just a cold. I’ve made good money busking, I don’t know why I should change my spot,” Jisung says. He’s not sure why he’s defending it, the subway isn’t getting any more pleasant to be in, but the fact that he’s being questioned at all makes him willing to die on this hill.

“Oh, that’s another thing,” Hyunjin calls out. He’s more than a little buzzed, four dollars into the night and feeling good. “Minho. I want to meet Minho.”

“I’m feeling awfully called out right now. Why do you want to meet Minho?”

“I met Minho,” Seungmin adds in.

“You didn’t meet Minho, you were walked in on by Minho. Those aren’t the same thing,” Jisung says. Just as he does, his phone buzzes. _Minho._

“Is that him?” Hyunjin asks, leaning over his shoulder to glance at the screen. “ _Hey babe, what are you doing tonight? Are you still sick?_ Aw, babe, he calls you babe!” he slurs.

“You’re a drunkard,” Jisung laughs, poking Hyunjin in the side and receiving a screech in return. “Shhhhh.”

“That’s so cute.”

“That’s so gross.”

Felix and Seungmin chime in at the same time, and Jisung shoots a glare at his roommate.

“Never call me babe,” Seungmin says, turning to Changbin.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, love,” he returns, laughing when Seungmin swats him on the shoulder. “Sorry, wouldn’t dream of it Seungmin.”

 **Minho:** _Hey babe, what are you doing tonight? Are you still sick?_

 **Jisung:** _Barely. Took a night off for dollar beers with my friends._

 **Minho:** _Oh. By any chance are you at Sam’s?_

 **Jisung:** _Yeah..._

 **Minho:** _I ’m at a bar around the corner with Chan_

 **Jisung:** _Small world_

 **Minho:** _Can I come say hi? Or is that weird in front of your friends? This work party is getting boring._

 **Jisung:** _Actually, I think they’d like it_

 **Minho:** _And you?_

 **Jisung:** _Come on we both know you’re coming_

 **Minho:** _you're irresistible_

Jisung tries to keep his phone private while texting Minho back, but he must have made a noise when Minho says he’s nearby because he’s felt Hyunjin’s breath on his neck ever since. “He’s coming?”

“Sounds like he’s coming,” Jisung confirms. At least he doesn’t have time to psych himself out at the thought. At the thought of his… partner? Future boyfriend? At the thought of Minho coming to meet his friends. Oh god, how does he even introduce him? _Maybe he still has a little bit of time to psych himself out_.

Changbin leans across the table and motions for Jisung to come closer, which he does. “Does he know I’m here?” he asks quietly.

 _Oh, shit._ “No. But it should be fine. He’s reasonable,” Jisung whispers back. _Usually._

“Not the jealous type?”

“Jisung?”

Jisung looks up to see Minho and a friend walking up to their booth and stands up to greet him. He goes in for a hug but stops himself, catching Minho’s elbows and smiling up at him instead. “Hey doc. You look nice,” he says, taking in his tucked in formal shirt and dress pants, complete with a striped tie.

“Thank you. We were at a work thing, but it was getting pretty dull. This is Chan,” Minho replies, motioning to his friend. “The one you should actually be calling Doc.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jisung says. Chan is good looking in a different way than Minho, with bold features and starkly dyed hair in opposition to Minho’s refined looks. And he’s a doctor. He tries not to be intimidated. “Oh, Minho, Chan. This is Seungmin, Changbin, Felix, and Hyunjin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Chan says, holding up a friendly hand.

“Uh,” Jisung starts, looking around at their booth. “I think we might need to pull up a chair or something. It’s a little crowded.”

“No problem,” Minho says, grabbing one from a vacant table and sticking it outside the booth. Chan takes the seat as Minho nudges Jisung into the booth and snakes an arm around his waist. “Nice to meet you all. And more formally this time, Seungmin. Changbin.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Changbin offers up.

“What’s on the menu tonight?” Chan asks, blissfully unaware of the situation.

“One dollar beers!” Hyunjin cheers, holding his glass in the air. Chan laughs and glances towards the bar.

“I’m gonna go get myself one. Minho, you want?”

“Yes please.”

They sit there for a moment, awkward silence taking over the table with the presence of a new person.

“What did I miss?” Minho tries.

“We were talking about how Jisung should try an open mic,” Felix chimes in.

“Ooh, you should babe. Or a coffee shop. Something warm.”

“Oh come on. I’m still being ganged up on,” Jisung pouts.

The conversation takes off from there, a combination of teasing Jisung and actual helpful advice. Minho is friendly and cordial as always. _To everyone but Changbin, that is._ Jisung tries to ignore it, and it’s subtle, but he can’t help but notice that every time Changbin addresses him, Minho clings to his waist a little tighter. He doesn’t ask questions or speak directly to him, nor does he laugh at his jokes. Just clings to Jisung’s side, runs a thumb up and down his hip, and makes nice with everyone else.

By the time Minho and Chan are one drink in, Hyunjin is five and a little worse for wear. “You know, you’re really pretty,” he slurs, pointing a finger at Minho. “Good for Jisung.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re drunk.”

“It’s true!” Jisung buries his head in his hands as Hyunjin pokes him in the side.

“Everyone at the hospital is bummed he’s off the market,” Chan says, flinching when Minho glares at him.

“He’s drunk too,” Minho declares. “Too many free cocktails at the work mixer.”

“The cocktails weren’t free, the bartender just had her eye on you,” Chan shoots back. Jisung feels himself stiffen a little, but Minho maintains the grip on his waist.

“She had a ring on her finger, I doubt that.”

“A ring and a wandering eye,” Chan says wistfully.

“Well, too bad for her I’m here with this one.”

“Aww,” Felix coos at them. Jisung turns his attention to the other side of the table, taking in his friend’s current state. Seungmin seems to have fallen into sleepy drunk category, resting with Changbin stroking over his hair, and Felix is downright dopey.

“I think it might be time to head out,” Jisung suggests, looking at his phone. Nearly 11:30 and he has work in the morning. “Seungmin, wanna call a ride?”

“Going home with Changbin,” his roommate mumbles, to which Jisung shoots Changbin a questioning eye.

“He’s in good hands. We’re supposed to do something in the morning,” Changbin explains.

“Felix?”

“I’ll call one for Hyunjin and I,” he giggles. Jisung isn’t sure what’s funny, but Felix looks so delighted that he can’t help but smile with him. He scoots out of the booth, letting Minho and Hyunjin out, only to be held from behind and rocked from side to side.

“And you? Where are you going tonight?” Minho whispers to him.

“I need to go home and shower and change for work,” Jisung says quietly, freeing himself from Minho’s hold. “A little space, please?”

“Sorry,” Minho reponds, holding his hands up innocently. “Forgot.”

“Chan, how are you getting home?” Felix asks as he scrolls through his phone for a rideshare app.

“I live two blocks from here. Just gonna walk,” he says, pulling on his coat. “It was good meeting you all.”

“You too,” Seungmin says sleepily, waving his way. They all filter out one by one until just Jisung and Minho are left standing outside, waiting for Jisung’s ride.

“Any chance you want company tonight? I’m off tomorrow, we could just sleep,” Minho asks hopefully. Jisung is a little annoyed, but agrees nonetheless. It’s not good to go to sleep angry, that what his mom always says.

“Can you explain yourself?” Jisung asks when they finally get into his apartment. He realizes Minho has never been here for more than a few minutes and that might be a rude introduction, but he needs an explanation.

“Huh? For what?”

“For the Changbin thing. You’re not that sneaky, you know. You practically ignored him all night, and you were super clingy. You know I don’t like PDA like that, and you were nice to everyone else. What gives?”

“I’m sorry about the PDA. We were so close in the booth I forgot,” Minho says, stripping off his jacket and shoes. “I’m sorry. Can I have a kiss, please? I held back on that.”

Jisung pouts, but Minho is right, so he leans up to plant a peck to his lips. “And? Changbin?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Minho says, looking awfully guilty.

“But you did, so why?”

“I don’t know how to talk to someone like him when you have a past like that,” Minho says. Jisung pours two glasses of water and motions Minho down the hall and into his room. It’s a mess, as it always is, but he doesn’t have time to worry about that right now.

“What do you mean, someone like him?”

“A musician like you. With giant intimidating muscles and not a half bad face. Someone like that, who you used to sleep with and are still in daily communication with,” Minho clarifies. Jisung looks at him, unimpressed. Minho has nothing to worry about in terms of face, and his profession is certainly nothing to sneeze at.

“Why would you compare yourself to him?”

“You two were together for like five months, right?”

Jisung had been digging through his drawers for pajamas for him and Minho, but stops and stands up at that. “We weren’t actually _together_ , you know that.”

“ _We_ aren’t actually together, either. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“Well, that’s… We’re different.” Jisung gulps down the nerves in his throat trying to figure out something better to say than _that_. Nothing comes.

“How do you mean?” Minho questions. Jisung bends back down and grabs the clothes, tossing a set at Minho. He waits until his shirt is halfway peeled off his body until answering, hiding the nerves on his face with the fabric.

“We are together,” Jisung mumbles. When he pulls his shirt all the way off and replaces it with a pajama top, Minho is staring at him.

“Pardon?”

“I mean, yeah. Maybe not officially, but we are, right? Like, you wouldn’t flirt with a married bartender because you know you have me, right?. And I wouldn’t flirt with other people because I have you. Because we’re together.”

“And when you were with Changbin, you flirted with other people freely?” Minho asks.

“Well, no. But I didn’t really flirt with anyone. Except you. I flirted with you,” Jisung says. “And here we are.”

“You did more than flirt with me,” Minho says, now fully changed into his pajamas. His grin has gotten progressively wider throughout the conversation, jealousy apparently disappeared into thin air.

“Yes, I did. And again, here we are.” Jisung tosses a few pieces of clothes off his bed and hops on it, patting the mattress for Minho to come up too. It’s smaller than the one in Minho’s apartment, a full instead of a queen, but they should fit together quite nicely. “There’s no need to be jealous. What I had with him and what we have is completely different.”

“Howso?”

“I have to explain it?”

“You could show me,” Minho says slyly, pulling Jisung closer. He takes the bait, crawling onto Minho’s lap and wrapping his arms around his neck.

“You know, I thought I was the one who overreacted between us,” Jisung whispers, pressing his lips to Minho’s jaw. “The only person I kiss like this,” he continues, pressing their lips together softly before pulling away, “is you. And that’s not changing any time soon.”

“Never if I can help it,” Minho agrees, pulling Jisung back into a greedy kiss. Jisung feels his spine tingle at those words, the thought of Minho being his forever. Is it too early for that? He pushes the thought from his head and fills it with the feeling of Minho’s lips, his tongue, his hands. There’s no need to worry about anything else, or anyone else, or what’s to come. Here in his bedroom with Minho in his arms, the present is perfect enough.

* * *

  
  


_His friends might have had a point._

As Jisung stood in the subway station with chattering teeth and a dripping nose, trying to sound like he doesn’t feel absolutely pitiful, he realized for the first time that maybe his friends weren’t just nagging him, they actually had his best interest at heart. That’s what led him to look for a real gig, one indoors with heating that payed a real set amount of cash.That’s why he’s standing in this cafe now.

“Nervous?”

“No? Why would I be nervous?” Jisung asks, putting on his bravest face for the young barista tasked with helping him set up. He’s sweet, a little younger than Jisung with knowing eyes and a smile that lights up the room. He’s also Chan’s cousin. Or his cousin’s friend? Something like that.

“You look like you’re gonna shit yourself,” Jeongin says cheerfully. _Sweet._

“I’m not going to shit myself. I’m just not used to having a stage, that’s all,” Jisung explains hesitantly. Jeongin looks at the setup, a platform raised no more than a foot and a half off the ground. “A stage is a stage.”

“I guess in comparison to a dirty train station.”

The little bell on the door rings, and Jisung looks up to see Chan and Minho walk through the door, fresh off work. “Hey, babe!” Minho calls out, waving in Jisung’s direction. Jisung feels himself move towards the other before consciously making the decision to do so, and clutches Minho’s forearms for mental support when he gets to him.

“You’re here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Minho says, chuckling at Jisung’s nerves. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, excited. Sorry, Chan, hi,” Jisung says, realizing he’s ignored the other person in the party. “I thought you two were gonna be late.”

“We swapped some stuff around. Bribed some people on the later shift to come in early with sweets,” Chan explains.

“I thought doctors only ate green stuff. Isn’t that why you never have good food in your place?” Jisung asks Minho. He laughs and starts to say something, but is interrupted by a voice across the room.

“Jisung!” Jeongin calls out. Jisung looks to him and sees him tap his wrist. _Showtime_.

“I gotta go up there,” Jisung says, still not peeling his grip off Minho’s arms.

“You’ll do just as well as you always do. Better,” Minho assures him.

“I will,” Jisung says, partially to Minho and mostly to himself. “Can I- um, good luck kiss?”

“Really?” Minho asks, eyebrows raised in surprise. “We’re in front of like, a lot of people.”

“Special occasion?”

“You’ve got this,” Minho says, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Jisung’s waiting lips. “Break a leg.”

“Thanks, doc. Chan,” Jisung says, waving goodbye as he walks quickly to his setup. He sees Jeongin dart over to Chan for a hug as he sits down and adjusts his mics, then strums his guitar to check the tuning. Everything sounds good. Which means it’s time to start.

It’s not a big coffee house, nor is it particularly packed, but while crowds in the subway lasted two songs tops these people are here for the long haul. If they love him, they can comfortably stick around to hear more. If they hate him, they have to physically get up and leave. The stakes are bigger here.

Jisung takes a deep breath and leans into the mic, turning his inner performer on. He introduces himself, his current album, plays his favorites. Smiles when they pause conversation to watch him, laughs when one person calls out nice things. Introduces his new album with a special song.

“This is something new I wrote, it’s only been heard by one person so far. I’d like to dedicate it to them,” Jisung says, searching for Minho in the audience. He’s got red creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks, but the grin on his face and the squint of his eyes makes it endearing more than anything. “I hope you all like it.”

If the crowd had liked him before, they had been rather subtle about it. He got brief glances and soft smiles, but for the most part people had gone on with their days. Now he’s getting looks from most of them, and he’s not sure if it’s from the confession or the shift in tone of the song, but it’s absolutely thrilling. _This is why he does this._ He fills the cafe with softer songs for the rest of his set, a mixture of his own and some covers he knows will strike well with a coffee house crowd. When he finishes, Minho saunters up to the stage and stares at him with a cocky little smile on his face, and though he doesn’t use words his expression says it all.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Minho rebuttals.

“Then what?”

“You liiiike me. You really liiiike me. You dedicated a soooong to me,” Minho sing-songs, grabbing Jisung’s shoulders and wiggling their bodies to the tune. He’s probably trying to be annoying, but it’s adorable, and Jisung tries to bite back his smile but ultimately fails.

“Only cuz you’re hot,” he says nonchalantly.

“I’m hot and you liiike me. It’s ok, I like you too,” Minho says with a wink.

“Did I do ok?” Jisung asks suddenly, changing the tone of their conversation. He likes the joking, but he needs to know if he made the right choice.

“What? Of course you did. They all loved you,” Minho says.

“Really?”

“How could they not?” he assures. “I might be a tad bit biased, but I thought it was incredible. In fact, it was so good, I’d like to buy you a coffee.”

“It’s like 8 pm,” Jisung laughs. “They’re closing up.”

“A drink?”

“I don’t really feel like drinking.”

“A cozy night of cuddling in bed with me?” Minho offers, waggling his eyebrows.

“Isn’t that usually free anyways?”

“Only for sexy musicians.”

“Oh man, I guess I’m in luck then,” Jisung giggles, stepping away to pack up his guitar. As he does so, Jeongin approaches them with Chan in tow just behind.

“Boss really liked your set,” he says, starting to break down the stage equipment. “I think she wants you to play again.”

“Seriously?” Jisung asks. He had hoped this might turn into something recurring, but he didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.

“Officially, you didn’t hear it from me. But I’d keep an eye out for a phone call or something.”

“Thanks, Jeongin,” Jisung says, embarrassed by his wavering voice. He’s not gonna cry. He’s just a little emotional at the possibility of a stable income, that’s all.

“Please control yourself,” Jeongin says, backing away slowly. Jisung can’t help but tease him, reaching his arms out and plumping his lips up to go in for a hug and a smooch. Jeongin runs, which sets Chan’s laugh off, which draws the attention of the few straggling customers. Minho take’s Jeongin’s place in Jisung’s arms, patting the back of his head gently.

“Congratulations,” he says quietly, only for Jisung to hear. He buries his head in Minho’s neck for a brief moment before pulling away slightly to look at him.

“Let’s go home.”

Chan drives them back, and Jisung admires the all black sedan he drops them off in from the back seat. All that doctor money seems to have paid off. He breathes in the smell of well cared for leather and watches the city lights from the window pass him by, so different from the concrete tunnels of the subway. The city is nicer from inside this cozy car, with good people and a nice place to return to. It’s not that he’s anxious to leave his old lifestyle, but it’s a nice taste of what it could be like to really _make it_. With graduation a few months away, it drives his resolve not to settle for anything less than he deserves. While the subway has brought him success and happiness, these lights are too beautiful not to see again.

“Thank you for coming early today,” Jisung whispers later that night, warm in bed with Minho, hands trailing through his hair.

“Of course. What kind of boyf-” Minho starts to say before cutting himself off, “What kind of person would I be if I missed out on your first paid gig?”

 _Ah. That word._ “I think you’re perfect,” he says quietly, pressing his lips to Minho’s forehead and pulling him close. He’s about ten seconds from just giving in and accepting it, making Minho his and committing to this for real. Inside he already has. But then Minho mumbles something into his neck, and Jisung’s heart breaks just a little bit for him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

Jisung just pulls him impossibly closer and keeps his fingers soothing at his scalp. “It’s ok, doc. Don’t apologize.”

“I know we’re not there yet.”

“Just a little longer, ok?” Jisung whispers. He’s made Minho wait this long already, to abandon his plan before accomplishing his goal wouldn’t be fair at all. “I’m gonna do something big. Get millions of listeners. Make people love me.”

“People already love you,” Minho says, pulling his head from Jisung’s neck to press a soft kiss to his lips. “They really do. Tons of them.”

“Yeah, but I need a few more. Just a few more, and a solid plan, and then I’m all yours,” Jisung says. _Though I’m already all yours._

“Well, you have me,” Minho says, smiling softly at him from his place on the pillow. He’s so beautiful, eyes so sparkling and full of fondness, skin so soft and smooth beneath his hands.

“Thank you.”

“Jisung?” Minho says quietly, thumb moving to brush over Jisung’s cheek. “Do you know what I’m saying?”

“Hmm?” Jisung hums, enjoying the feeling of smooth, slender fingers on his face.

“I’m saying you have me. I’m people. I love you. Maybe I’m not supposed to say that yet, when we’re supposed to be casual or not official or whatever, but. Yeah. You have people who love you. I’m people who love you.”

Jisung sucks in a breath and opens his eyes, staring at the man before him. The way his smile has turned into a nervous gnawing at his lip, his eyes are sure but his brows furrowed in concern. _Why is he so concerned? Jisung’s feelings are obvious._

“I think we’re anything but casual, doc. I love you too. I really, really do.”

Minho releases his lip from the bite it’s been held in, lets his face relax into something between bliss and relief, lets his thumb continue tracing lines over Jisung’s cheek. He smiles into the kiss when Jisung pulls him close, laughs when Jisung moves his lips to his jaw, his neck, his ear.

“I love the way you kiss me,” he whispers, pecking him on the cheek. “And the way you get all red on the neck when you get flustered.” Another peck, to the neck. “And the way you make me feel like the best person in the world, even though it’s clearly you.” A kiss to the lips. “I love you, too.”

“Jisung,” Minho says into the kiss, too stubborn to pull away.

“Yeah?”

Minho continues kissing him slowly, pulling away for just a moment to speak. “Never mind. I just wanted to say your name.”

* * *

“This is really nice,” Seungmin says from his seat directly in front of the stage. “A big upgrade.”

He and Jisung’s friends are here, most of them for the first time a few weeks into his scheduled gigs. He can’t blame them, they’d started right in the midst of finals and continued over winter break. Felix, Seungmin, and Hyunjin had gone home, Changbin had stayed and visited a few times, and Minho came every week after work.

Now Changbin is sat next to Seungmin on a little sofa with an arm slung around his shoulder, Felix and Hyunjin on the other side of the table in their individual seats. “Jisung, that guy is here again.”

“What guy?”

“That guy who bought your album like two weeks ago. He’s been sitting watching you like a hawk since then.

“Huh?” Jisung asks. He’s sold a lot of albums since starting here two days a week, that much is true. His streams are up too, by a lot. His savings account is actually sitting quite pretty in the bank right now.

“The guy in the blazer,” Changbin whispers. Jisung and Hyunjin look around to see what he’s talking about.

“Not very descriptive, Bin,” Hyunjin scoffs. The entire crowd is young professionals who look like they just got off work. Jisung wants to ask more questions, but Jeongin waves to him from across the room, signalling it’s time to go.

Jisung tries not to think about it too much, instead focusing on his music and entertaining the crowd. He’s figured out what kind of songs suit the coffeehouse best, leads with those, and sneaks his personal favorites in along the way. When Minho walks through the door in his scrubs, Jisung keeps playing, though he’s sure the smile on his face gets bigger. They’ve been good lately, really good, office holiday party date, kiss at new years, meet Minho’s friends when they’re in town, daydream about their future kind of good. He watches Minho walk up to his friends’ table, greet everyone, exchange a few laughs with Changbin. They’ve gotten closer, especially since coming to these little shows to support Jisung.

When the shift ends, Jisung stops having to guess what man Changbin was talking about. Someone relatively young and professional looking, with neat hair and soft features, comes up to the stage and offers his hand, which Jisung shakes hesitantly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kun. You are?”

“Um. I go by J.One when I’m performing,” Jisung answers, a little taken aback at this man's straightforwardness. It kind of reminds him of Minho.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, laughing goodnaturedly. “I mean, what’s your first name? A normal name to call you?”

“Jisung.”

“Jisung, I’m wondering what your goals are as a musician,” Kun says. _Huh?_

“To make music that people will connect with,” Jisung says, unsure if that’s really what he’s asking.

“That’s a great answer,” Kun says with a nod. Jisung feels a little proud, then wonders why he values the answer of this man he doesn’t know. “I’m asking because I work for a production house, and your songwriting is really standout. I’m wondering if that’s something you’d be interested in?”

“In writing songs for other people?”

“Well, you can perform them, of course. You don’t have to write them all for other people, you can still be an artist. But I’m wondering if you’d want to do an interview sometime about it?”

“I’m still in college,” Jisung blurts out. He’s not sure how to process this.

“An internship, then. Dip your toe in the water while you’re not in class?” Kun suggests. “Paid, of course.”

“Yes?” _Obviously, yes._ “But you’re really just gonna offer it to me after hearing me a few times?”

Kun laughs and pats him on the shoulder, then reaches into his pocket and hands Jisung a business card. “Of course not. This program already existed, and we have other applicants, I just wondered if you’d like to do an interview. You’ll have to submit other work as well, and show me what you’ve done for school. But if you can prove you’re up to snuff, then yeah. I think you’re talented. I have your card from last week, but this is mine. Call me tomorrow to set up an interview time?”

“Yes, sir,” Jisung says, nodding rapidly. _Is this really happening? He’s getting scouted?_

“Please, don’t call me sir. It makes me sound old. Just call me Kun, ok?”

“Ok, Kun. Thank you so much. I’ll call you first thing in the morning,” Jisung says excitedly. _This is seriously happening!_

“Not first thing. Maybe sometime after ten?”

“You’ve got it,” Jisung agrees.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Jisung,” Kun says, shaking his hand one more time and departing. Jisung tries to keep his cool and not freak out until he’s out of eyeline, but as soon as he’s in the clear he has to sit back down. His friends walk up shortly after, trying not to crowd around him and keep their distance aside from Minho taking his hand.

“So… what was that? Is he in the FBI or something? You in trouble?” Changbin asks, waggling his eyebrows. Seungmin elbows him in the ribs but leans in curiously.

“No, I’m not. Actually, I think I have a job interview.”

“For what?” Felix questions.

“I.. I’m not exactly sure what they want from me. For an internship at a production house,” he explains. They take their turns asking various questions, none of which Jisung has any answers to, until Jeongin scolds them and forces them out of the now closed cafe. Hyunjin offers to take Jisung out for a celebratory drink, but he declines, having to wake up early and make his very important phone call. Minho escorts him and Seungmin home, leaving Jisung with a quick kiss and a wish for good luck. Jisung really needs it.

This could mean so many things. This could mean a future, it could mean getting to quit his dull job at the library that he’d never made the most of, it could mean a career, it could mean stability. It could mean finally being secure enough to give Minho the attention and commitment he so greatly deserves.

That’s what drives him at 10:01 in the morning, when he sets up an interview for two days later. It’s the spirit that drives his interview answers, a wish to learn more about the industry and explore the different ways he can touch people with his music, to prove that he can do everything he wants, to make a name for himself as someone who strives to help others. He’d lost sight of that, too focused on his own success to see the stories of the people around him. Asleep standing up. His eyes are wide open now.

* * *

“Cheers!”

Jisung laughs at the sound of glasses clinking together, of his friends celebrating with him in this same shitty dive bar he’d first gone out to with Minho. Seungmin, Changbin, Felix, Hyunjin, Chan. Even Jeongin came by for a soda after bribing the bouncer to let him in on the promise he wouldn’t drink.

Minho.

“I’m so proud of you, my baby musician, can you ask them to save a spot for me too?” Changbin coos, clinging to Jisung’s side and making smoochy faces at him. Jisung makes them back, though they’re both in mutual agreement to keep a two inch gap between them. He can see Minho and Seungmin staring at them through his peripheral, looking a mixture of amused and worried, as Chan, Felix, and Hyunjin dote on Jeongin.

“I don’t have that kind of pull yet,” Jisung says, “but for you I’ll try.”

The interview process had been _hard._ He’d worked his ass off finding the perfect songs to submit to their lead producers, spoken to three different sets of people, had to prove himself ten times over. But he got it. He’ll start at the ground, but _he got it_.

“I knew I could trust you,” Changbin says. Seungmin smiles and pulls him away, back into his own side.

“You’ll have pull soon,” Minho says. “You’ll be their singer-slash-songwriter in no time. Because you have a good muse.”

“You’re awfully cocky,” Jisung responds, leaning into him. _Not wrong, though._

“Can the couples please stop coupling?” Hyunjin asks, turning away from Jeongin long enough to shoot them a bored look.

“No,” Seungmin says, holding Changbin tight. Minho does the same.

“You’re all very cute, but we over here are all very single. Please have some respect,” Felix adds on. Jisung sees Chan glance in Felix’s direction at that, scratching the back of his neck nervously and opening his mouth before giving up and taking a swig of his beer.

“Don’t worry, Lix. I see great things in your future,” Jisung says with a smirk. Felix blinks, looking awfully confused, but shrugs it off.

“If you say so.”

“Who wants to play darts?” Chan asks, rapidly changing the subject.

“Me!” Hyunjin shouts, raising his hand into the air. Jeongin does the same, though silently.

“I’ll go rent them out,” Chan says, stepping away from the table. They all follow suit, heading to the darts area of the bar and bringing their drinks with them. Jisung feels Minho sling an arm around his waist and turns in his grip to face him.

“Thanks for putting this together,” he whispers, pressing a quick kiss to Minho’s cheek. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know,” Minho agrees with a little wink. Jisung pouts and gets a chaste peck on the lips in return. “I love you too.”

This is so perfect. Everything is so incredibly perfect, in this shitty bar, with this amazing relationship, with his incredible friends, with his budding career. “This is really special. But I think we might have to dip out for a second,” Jisung says quietly, wrapping his arms around Minho’s neck. “I’ve got some words for you.”

“Hmm? What kind of words?”

“I think I have to go to the bathroom,” he responds, pulling Minho with him. He’s got words, special words, but he can’t keep them in. Somehow this feels both incredibly appropriate and vastly the opposite at the same time.

“I love you,” Jisung says, pushing Minho back against the bathroom door when they get in and pressing their lips together. It’s so different from the first time they did this, back when the urgency and heat overtook every rational part of his being. They’re still there, little traces of warmth that follow Minho’s fingers down his ribs and to the small of his back, but there’s so many layers underneath now as well.

Minho pulls away first, but only to press a kiss to Jisung’s jaw. “Love you too. I’m so proud of you.”

“I got the internship,” Jisung says, running his fingers through Minho’s hair.

“You did.”

“If I do well they said it would turn into a full time position. They said they’ll find something for me.”

“As they should,” Minho says, still trailing kisses down Jisung’s neck.

“I’m gonna have a stable job.”

“I know, babe. You deserve it.”

“I’ll have a degree too. And my lease will be up, and I can find a normal apartment that isn’t creaky and scary,” Jisung says, chuckling a little at how impatient Minho is starting to get.

“That’s great.”

“So I’ll have everything. Except a boyfriend. Do you know where I can find one of those?” Jisung asks, laughing when Minho pulls up and looks at him with shimmery eyes.

“Huh?”

“I said, I need a boyfriend. Someone I can take home to my parents and brag about and build a future with.”

“Well, you should ask someone then. You won’t find one if you don’t ask,” Minho says.

“Oh, actually… would you be interested?” Jisung asks, posing as if the idea had just come to him.

“Sorry, in what again?”

Of course Minho would make him work for it.

“Minho, will you please be my boyfriend and let me love you properly?”

“Yes,” he responds instantly, not patient enough to play the part anymore. “God, yes. My tortured musician boyfriend. Doesn’t it have a nice ring to it? Who am I dating? Oh, he’s a musician. Wow, I like the sound of that,” Minho rambles, faking conversation to himself. It’s adorable, but Jisung is unfortunately out of patience.

He seals their lips back together, licks into his boyfriend's mouth, blinks sentimental tears from his eyes. It wouldn’t be cute to cry in the bathroom of a dive bar.

When they leave the bathroom after what is probably far too much time, their friends all whoop and applaud. Jisung can’t keep back the blush on his face, and from what he can tell neither can Minho. They head to the darts table to check up on the scores, only to find Jeongin shockingly ahead.

A few moments later, the bar music changes. A soft and happy song, one all too familiar for Jisung as he recognizes his own voice.

“Did one of you guys put this on?”

His friends all shake their heads, and even squinting at them, none of them seem to be lying. He has to blink back tears again.

His song, one of finding happiness and love in someone new, has spoken to someone else. Jisung tucks into Minho’s side, leans into his ear, and whispers to his boyfriend. “Thanks for taking a chance on me.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to hear my babbling on twitter you can find me @0hrhj0  
> Curiouscat is Koto16  
> I'm grinding League of Legends trying to hit gold before end of season which is why my writing has been sparse but I really do hope to finish this pretty soon.


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